


My Fair Charlie

by Pixiestick_cc



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Implied Mac/Dennis, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, My Fair Lady AU, Profanity, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-03-21 20:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13748319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiestick_cc/pseuds/Pixiestick_cc
Summary: When Dee agrees to help Charlie learn how to read, it forces them both to deal with long ago repressed emotions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not trying to tie down the chapters that take place in the present to any particular time period, but assume they happen before 'The Gang misses the boat'. Flashbacks are ambiguously early 90s.

“You’ve managed to get through life this far without knowing how to read, so why now?” Dee asked Charlie one night after he cornered her at Paddy’s, muttering something about needing her help so low she told him to, “Speak the fuck up.”

“Because it might make a difference.”

“Difference? What difference? Are you trying to get another job?” Not that she would blame him. Dee would’ve bolted years ago if it wasn’t for her self-destructive co-dependent relationship with the gang. That’s what her therapist called it anyway. Whatever that meant. _The bitch_.

“No, no, not a new job, but for the waitress,” he explained leaning over the counter Dee stood behind. “If I could read it might make me more attractive. Educated. You know, girls like that smart stuff.” He paused to affect an accent like maybe he was going for British, but it came out sounding all wrong. Anyway, she could’ve done it so much better. “I want to be a dapper gentleman about town, one worthy of m’lady the waitress’s hand.”

 _God not the waitress again_. Dee rolled her eyes and sighed. “Charlie, you don’t actually think …” But she stopped herself, because whatever seemed like a rational idea to her was probably the exact opposite for him. Might as well let Charlie live in fantasyland while she milked this for all she could. “And what exactly do I get out of helping you learn to read?” Dee asked.

“The satisfaction of helping someone you care about?” Charlie offered with one of those earnest looking grins she just knew would be full of shit on any other guy. With Charlie though, he had a strange habit of usually saying precisely what he meant. Even when it made no sense.

“Try again,” she replied while taking a drink of the beer that was meant for the customer sitting on a nearby stool. With a sideways glance, Dee saw the old guy was busy talking with someone, and quickly swiped her sleeve across the rim, removing her saliva. _Good as new_.

“I’ll uh, write you a song then.”

“Huh?” Dee looked up at Charlie, already having forgotten why he was there. _Oh yeah, the reading thing._

“For you. I’ll write you a song.”

“Oohhh,” she said, drawing out the word before ending it on a hard, “Uh, no.”

“Come on, Dee,” Charlie whined. “I can’t ask the guys.”

“Why, ‘cause you’re embarrassed they’ll make fun of you? I promise I would be just as bad, if not worse.”

“No, because they’ll just make it all about themselves like they always do and I won’t learn anything. You’re the only one who’s got nothing going on.”

Dee scoffed, but wasn’t able to quickly counter his claim with a lie before some guy came up and accused her of taking too long. _Rude!_ “Too long at what?” she shot back.

“Uh, I think he paid for the beer.” Charlie pointed at the bottle she’d been nursing for the last five minutes.

“Heh, I knew that.” She snorted, and offered the man a new drink after deciding another swipe of her sleeve wouldn’t get her out of this one.

“So how ‘bout it? Wanna teach your old friend some new tricks?” Charlie said after the customer walked away.

Dee finished her beer with one long chug and set it down. “Alright,” she finally relented. “But I want a good song, nothing about spiders, okay. I want it to be about me.” Charlie nodded enthusiastically, and clapped his hands causing Dee to narrow her gaze. “And no mentions of birds either.”

His face fell, but he rebounded quickly. “No birds. No spiders. Only Dee. And you’ll teach me to read?”

Sure. Why not? She could treat it as a joke. Well, maybe not a joke, but it definitely would make her laugh. And really, how could she turn down the chance to hear a grown man learning how to read. It was so degrading. So humiliating. So much more interesting than her current life. Charlie was right; she really didn’t have anything going on.

“Yes, Charlie,” Dee sighed. “I will _try_ to teach you how to read.”

He pumped his fist, but lowered it after hearing Dennis arguing with Mac as they walked through the front door. “And let’s just keep this between us, okay?” Charlie said, his eyes darting towards them and then back to Dee.

“Wait a minute. I thought you weren’t embarrassed,” she replied.

“I’m not. Not about learning to read. Just that I’ll be hanging out with you so much.”

Dee made a high-pitched offended noise. “Forget the lessons then.”

Charlie frowned and ran a hand over his beard a few times. “Fine, okay. I am embarrassed,” he admitted with a defeated sigh after sinking down onto a stool. “I’d rather they make fun of me for being illiterate than taking lessons. And you know they’ll pull you into it too. Call you names, like teacher bird and I’m your little baby bird and you’re gonna show me how to fly and spread my birdy wings.” He made flapping gestures with his fingers and Dee slammed them down onto the bar with her hands.

“Enough with the bird stuff, Charlie.”

He gave one of his shoulders a little shrug and tugged his hands out from under hers. “Look, I’m just trying to protect you. And me. But mostly you.”

Dee glanced at her brother who was busy shaking his head while watching Mac demonstrate some less than stellar karate moves that upended one of the table stools. “Goddammit, Mac,” Dennis griped and picked up the fallen piece of furniture. “There is no such thing as dance-karate. And if there is, you’re awful at it.”

“And really Dee, it’s kinda your fault anyway.”

She swung her gaze back to Charlie. “What?”

“You know, what with doing all my schoolwork for me when we were kids,” he reminded her.

The memories were old, but still fresh enough that she was able to see hazy images of them in her head. Charlie handing her a thermos filled with whiskey stolen from his mom, a typed up essay for him in return. High school had been traumatic for them both, but somehow they’d forged a system of survival. With alcohol she could dull her sadness over being ostracized as the _aluminum monster_ and he’d be able to stay in school because she kept him from failing.

“You were the one that came and found me asking for my help. It’s what you wanted,” Dee countered, shaking her head to pull herself back into the present. “Take some responsibility for your own actions.”

“Well, I am. Let’s fix this Charlie you created. The one who can’t read good.”

Dee decided not to correct his grammar mistake; only reading was in her contract. Actually they didn’t have a contract. Not yet anyway. She’d have to write one out tonight, otherwise he might try to get out of writing her a song, and if that’s all she was earning, she sure as hell would get it. Leaning forward, Dee lowered her voice to avoid the rest of the gang from hearing. “Okay, next time we both have off, we’ll meet at my place and you’ll get your first lesson.”

“The aluminum monster and dirtgrub together again.” Charlie smiled brightly, and Dee didn’t have the heart to berate him for calling her that awful nickname. Not when he seemed so happy.

So she just answered with an apathetic, “Yeah, whatever,” before leaving to get a closer look at Mac’s ridiculous karate dancing.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie was lucky if he made it through any day without being made fun of. Most times he was unlucky more than lucky. It wasn’t too bad; eating dirt made people laugh and got him off the hook. Sometimes though, he hated it. Depended on the weather. When it was cloudy his days were worse, but certain things made him feel better. Alcohol and weed (when he could get his hands on it) and spray paint (which was easier to get). And after the morning he’d had all Charlie wanted to do was get high before heading back to class.

They were going to hold him back. That’s what the counselor said. He’d have to repeat sophomore year if he didn’t turn a corner. He thought she meant like a learning corner, not an actual corner. But it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t turn a corner if you couldn’t read good. Ron and Psycho Pete were his only friends. Next year they’d be in a whole other section of the school while dumb dirtgrub would still be stuck in the tenth grade.

Feeling like a useless piece of shit, he skulked towards the back of the school, hoping to get a huff or two in before going back to class. Only a few other kids were there. Burnouts like him. Some were smoking. Others sneaking alcohol. Charlie reached for the bottle of spray paint and sock he kept in his backpack alongside the books he never read, but stopped when he heard, “What the fuck are you doing here, aluminum monster?”

That sounded familiar. Did he know someone named that? No, it wasn’t a real name. But he’d heard it before. Somewhere. Charlie shrugged to himself and sucked in a lungful of chemical goodness after spraying it into a sock that had long ago turned from white to silver. He needed a new one. But when a buzzy feeling of happiness filled his head, he forgot all about the sock.

“I have a right to be out here just like you.”

It was a familiar voice and Charlie turned around to see who it was. Dee … Deandra. Oh yeah, girl Dennis. Dennis Reynolds’ twin. She was the aluminum monster. And right now she looked upset. Maybe angry. The three guys and one girl surrounding her didn’t look happy either. Charlie knew them to be jerks, but low level ones. He definitely wouldn’t eat dirt or spiders to get any of them to laugh.

“No one wants you here. Go back to the car factory where you belong. I think your warranty ran out,” one of them taunted Dee.

But Dee didn’t budge. “Wow that’s so original. Cars are made out of metal. Aluminum is a metal. I’m surprised your brain was even able to make that connection. Maybe I should just go buy some wheels and strap ‘em on. Would that work for you?”

Charlie chuckled at the thought of Dee rolling around like a car and all the jerks looked at him. “Hey, dirtgrub. You gonna help recycle this soda can or just stand there and stare at us like the dumbass you are?” a guy with spiky green hair asked. Charlie thought it looked like grass.

The word recycle was just grass hair’s dumb way of saying they were gonna beat Dee up, but Charlie didn’t do stuff like that. He’d do a whole lot to get people to laugh instead of beat him up, because being a clown got you out of the crosshairs of most bullies. That didn’t mean he wanted to be one himself, especially to someone he kinda sorta knew through Ron, who sometimes pretended he was friends with Dennis. It was complicated. But this choice wasn’t. “No, uh no, not gonna just stand here staring like a dumbass,” he answered and then swayed a little as he walked closer to them, feeling a sudden urge to prove he wasn’t just a useless piece of shit. Maybe it was the chemicals swirling in his head. Usually they made him dreamy, but sometimes huffing made him feel like he could take on the world. And right now he wanted to bring down a bully. If it was the fumes, he knew they’d be gone soon. That was the problem with inhalants. They came on strong, but left just as fast. He better take advantage of this fake courage while it lasted.

The asshole never saw it coming. Charlie charged in his direction, knocking him over with his head like a bull. Someone yelled, “What the fuck,” as the grass guy landed on his back. Charlie got in a few punches before being dragged off by one of the other members of the jerk gang. After that he heard a lot of yelling from all sides as fists rained down on him, but one voice in particular stood out.

“Leave him alone!” Dee yelled, sounding like she meant it. That was weird. Someone cared if he got hurt?

As the beating continued, Charlie’s high quickly wore off until it was completely gone. Now he fully regretted his impulsive decision to stand up to someone. “Ugh, this was a bad idea,” he groaned just before a shadow of darkness pulled him under.

“Charlie. Charlie. Charlie,” a girly voice called out.

“Mom?” he asked weakly. No other girl called him Charlie. He was either Charles to his teachers or dirtgrub to his classmates. “Mom?” he repeated, opening his eyes, but then squinted. Bright light. Too bright. “Is that you?”

“No,” the person scoffed. “I’m not your mom.”

 _I know that voice_ … “Aluminum monster?” Charlie said. Suddenly his back hit the ground. She must’ve been holding him up. “Ow,” he whined.

“Well, don’t call me that. Especially after I just fought off those assholes for you.”

Charlie sat up and opened his eyes fully. Dee was kneeling in front of him, her bottom lip bloodied. “Sorry. It’s just what everyone calls you.” He shook his head, and moaned. The pounding. “Wait. You fought them off? I thought I did.”

Dee snorted. “You knocked one of them over, I’ll give you that, but I did all the hard work. Most people don’t realize that this uh, thingado,” she pointed at the weird metal cage covering her head and torso, “works as a weapon too. Coming in contact with it hurts.” She smiled like she was proud, but winced when it pulled at the cut in her lip.

“Oh.” Charlie didn’t like her description of the fight. In his mind he’d taken at least two of the bullies down before blacking out, but then again the blood in his mouth told him a different story. He spit red liquid onto the grass, which reminded him ... “How bad does grass hair look? Did I hurt him?”

“Grass hair?”

“The one I knocked over.”

Dee made a motion with her head like she was trying to nod. She couldn’t though. Not with that aluminum monster thingy. “Jake? Oh, you punched him once, but then screamed about your fist hurting.”

Ugh this story was getting worse. Not only was he still a piece of shit, but he was a piece of shit who’d been rescued by the aluminum monster. Charlie hoped this wouldn’t get around school. He’d have to eat extra dirt to stop the teasing. “Okay, well, thanks for the help, I guess.” He grunted as he tried to stand. “I gotta go though.” A rush of blood to his head made him fall back down.

“Hey, wait. You should probably go see the nurse. You were unconscious. You could have a concussion.” Dee was using that concerned voice again. Why did she even care?

“Oh, I pass out all the time. I’m good to go after a minute or two.” Charlie attempted to stand again and Dee offered her hand this time. He would’ve told her no, but realized the help was actually needed. “Okay, well see ya, Dee,” he muttered, then pulling from her grasp, he picked up his abandoned backpack.

“See ya, Charlie,” she said as he went to leave. “And thanks for trying to defend me. Even if it didn’t turn out that great, I still appreciate the effort. No one ever sticks up for me. Not even Dennis.”

It wasn’t what he’d meant to do. Charlie was just trying to prove he wasn’t worthless, not defend Dee. But her thanks made him feel buzzy again. Not as good as spray paint, but something like it. “Yeah, sure,” he responded, turning around so she wouldn’t see the smile on his face. And as he ran back into the school, it occurred to Charlie that she hadn’t once called him dirtgrub.

 

~***~

 

Thankfully, word of the fight didn’t spread around. Charlie just assumed everyone involved was too embarrassed to talk about it. Everyone except the winner. And that made things awkward, because now whenever Charlie felt like taking a break behind the school, Dee was sometimes there. He didn’t mind her company. It wasn’t that. But the teasing got worse. And not just from the normal bullies, but Ron too, who sometimes came out back with Charlie to sell weed.

“What do you even see in her?” Ron asked one day at school as they were heading towards the exits.

Charlie just shrugged. He couldn’t answer without giving away that he maybe didn’t mind her friendship. Just the bullying that came with it. “It doesn’t matter. Next year she’ll leave me alone. The Junior hallway isn’t close enough to the exits to get back to class in time.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ron frowned. He didn’t like the reminder that Charlie was being held back. “You know you should try getting someone to do your school work for you. Like a smarter person, and then you’d owe them. I do it all the time with weed. People can’t pay, they do things for me.”

“Like I could give a nerd some of your weed and they’d do the smart stuff for me?” Charlie asked.

“What?” Ron laughed. “No way. That’s my product. You’ll just have to figure out what it is you can offer besides eating dirt.” They’d finally made it to the back of the school and there was Dee, standing off to the side like usual. Her face lit up until she saw Ron beside Charlie. Both his friends exchanged dirty looks, but neither shouted the insults they wanted to. “I’m gonna make the rounds,” Ron said, and then left, opening up a spot for Dee to take.

He’d stopped huffing spray paint at school because of her. She didn’t like it. Alcohol was harder to get and Ron was always stingy with his weed, but Charlie managed to sneak both from time to time. Today he had his mom’s whiskey and brought just enough for him and Dee to share. Her smile was bright when he offered her the thermos from his backpack.

“I’d kill to have this every day,” Dee stated after taking the first drink. “It helps me ignore the assholes who throw paper at me in English.” Charlie nodded as he took the thermos from her, having experienced a similar situation. Except for him it was Algebra, and it wasn’t paper, but erasers. “They’re just jealous that the aluminum monster isn’t actually stupid,” Dee continued. “Sometimes people assume because I wear this thing, that my brain doesn’t work. It’s just my spine, douchebags.”

Charlie felt the burning sensation of the whiskey sliding down his throat. So warm. So good. And then the words Dee said registered in his brain. “English? You’re good at English?”

“Well, yeah, you have to be if you want to be an actress. Lot of scripts to read. Next year I’m gonna kick all their asses in Speech, and then Drama the year after that.”  

She made a movement with her foot similar to the karate Ron was always imitating, and his friend’s idea from earlier jumped back into Charlie’s head. “Hey, uh Dee, you wanna like help each other out and make a deal?”


	3. Chapter 3

The first time Dee gave Charlie one of _his_ papers, they were standing in their spot behind the school, but when she held out the typed up report for him to see, he looked at it and then stared back at her with his mouth hanging open. “What?” she demanded, not intending to sound so angry. It wasn’t that she was mad at Charlie; Dee just hated feeling like an object, and he was giving her that same look most people did when they first encountered the back brace. She was so familiar with it- bug eyes and slack jaw- but never got used to the gawking. None of those dick-bags realized there was a person underneath all that metal. But Charlie did, and now he was giving her that stare just like the rest of them.

“Wow, so you did that?” he asked, squinting at the paper. “How’d you get it to look so neat? You got a special machine that puts letters on paper making ‘em all look the same?”

Dee exhaled softly and stopped short of rolling her eyes, reminding herself that Charlie didn’t have all the extras in life she did. That wasn’t his fault. It never was when you had a shitty parent. And Dee knew all about shitty parents. “No, dummy,” she replied, more to tease than insult. “It’s from a computer. I wrote this on a computer and then printed it out.”

Charlie nodded his head as if understanding. “Ahh, a compooter,” he said slowly and all wrong. This time Dee did roll her eyes.

“Haven’t you ever seen a computer before? There’s several in the school library.”

Charlie moved his head up and down again. “In the libury?”

If he were anyone else, Dee would’ve said something snarky. That was her natural inclination when she encountered stupidity. With Charlie though, it was hard to stay annoyed for too long. He was like an innocent little puppy she’d been given to take care of. That wasn’t how friendships were supposed to work, but she didn’t have a whole lot of experience to draw from either. Dee’s only other friend was an overweight girl who acted like she was better than her. “Well, if I’m going to be writing your stuff from now on, maybe it’s time to start telling everyone you got a computer.” She kneeled on the ground next to his backpack, and after shoving the paper inside, added, “I made sure to put a few spelling errors in there. Don’t want everyone thinking you learned how to spell overnight. It should be a gradual process.”

“Gradial precess,” Charlie repeated in the same goofy way he’d mangled all his other words. It was making Dee suspicious and on impulse she unzipped one of the larger pockets on his backpack, revealing the evidence she’d been searching for.

“You got fucking high before I came out here?” she asked, after spotting the spray paint can and sock.  

“S-sorry,” Charlie stuttered.

Dee came back up to his level- which was actually a few inches above him- and fought the urge to chew him out. She didn’t want to sound like a mom even if he sometimes needed one. “I fucking knew you couldn’t be so dumb as to never have been in the library,” she said, changing the subject just enough to not sound judgmental about his huffing tendencies.

A crease appeared between Charlie’s two bushy eyebrows. “No, I don’t uh, that is, I actually haven't.” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away when Dee laughed, but honestly she was more shocked than amused.

“You mean you’ve never been in the school library? Not even to play computer games?” When Charlie shook his head, Dee’s lips twisted to the side. “Well, maybe we should fix that,” she finally said. “Do you wanna come with me during lunch? I can show you the computers. They don’t really have any fun games, just educational, but I’ve played _Oregon Trail_ a few times. It’s kinda fun making everyone die of dysentery.” Dee snickered, remembering how many times she’d made Dennis die in the game.  

But Charlie seemed hesitant, and when his eyes darted over to Ronnie the Rat standing a few feet away doing his usual in between class dealing, Dee didn’t have to guess too hard as to why. There was a hierarchy at their school and despite Charlie being at the bottom like her, he still had connections to some of the higher levels. If their friendship was taken beyond the back of the school where not just the burnouts could see, it might affect his standing in those other groups.

“Forget it,” Dee mumbled, trying to mask the disappointment in her voice like a great actress would. She kicked the toe of her shoe into the ground a few times. “That was a dumb idea. Just, uh, give me the whiskey and we’ll call it even. I’ve got to get back to class anyway.” She held out her hand, waiting for Charlie to reach into his jacket and pull out the thermos they’d already shared, but he stalled. “What the fuck, Charlie. We had a deal. You’re not gonna punk out on me, are you?”

“What if you just show me the computer at your house?” Charlie blurted out so fast the words blended together.

“What?” Dee asked, not sure she’d heard him correctly.

“The computer you used to make my paper. You can show it to me and then I’ll know what it is. You know, in case a teacher asks.”

_Yeah, you just want to go where no one will see us._

Dee balled her hands into fists as the urge to call Charlie presumptuous rushed through her. What made him think she’d let him anywhere near her house? It would be pointless though. Charlie probably didn’t even know what the insult meant. And whatever. She actually didn’t care if he came over. It was just that her feelings had been hurt, but Dee couldn’t reveal that. No one would ever see that side of her. Not even someone she considered a friend. “Fine,” she muttered, trying so hard to show indifference that she grasped her own bag and breezed past Charlie, forgetting all about the whiskey.

Surprisingly, he rushed after her. “Hey, uh, I don’t know where you live,” he said, briefly bumping into her back brace and grimacing when she whirled around to glare at him.

Once she saw his apologetic look though, her tough exterior softened slightly, and when some rando purposefully shoved into Charlie seconds later- calling him dirtgrub in the process- Dee transferred the rest of her irritation onto him. “Excuse you, ass-face!” she yelled, but the guy was already out of earshot. Well, at least Charlie recognized the effort.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, no problem,” Dee replied, and began walking again with Charlie at her heel.

“So, uh, about that address?” he said.

Dee came to a stop near the door of her class a few seconds later and turned to look at him directly. For a brief moment, her eyes lingered on the bridge of his nose and the faint smattering of freckles across it. “Soooo, if you really wanna come over,” she reached into her bag and handed him a small business card, “here’s my address.”

Charlie took the card and glanced over it. “Who’s Frank Reynolds?”

“My dad,” Dee answered, her words dripping with disdain. “He gives me and Dennis his business cards to hand out at school. All he cares about is work and money. Instead of a ‘goodbye’ in the morning I get, ‘Did you hand out any of my cards yesterday?’ Like who am I supposed to give them to? No one cares.”

“Well, I do.” Charlie looked up from the card. “I mean about the address. Not your dad. But maybe I’ll meet him. No, that would be weird. Just coming over for the computer. And you.” He coughed awkwardly.

Dee fought the urge to smile at his cute fumbling, but a tiny grin broke free anyway. “Well, I gotta go,” she stated and when the bell rang seconds later she added, “And looks like you do too.”

“Oh, shit!” Charlie blurted and then ran down the hall in the opposite direction.

Dee chuckled as she watched him go, but her smile faded when the shrill voice of her teacher called from inside the classroom, “Miss Reynolds, please come inside and stop blocking the doorway.”

_Bitch!_

As she strolled to her seat, Dee dodged a few pieces of crumpled paper lobbed her way and in retribution, offered her asshole classmates the bird. Of course, the teacher noticed this offensive gesture and not the paper attack, resulting in a detention slip being placed on her desk. “Way to go, aluminum monster,” someone nearby whispered. Dee ignored them and went to open her bag, but paused after realizing the thermos had somehow made it inside.

“Sneaky Charlie,” she mumbled, her mouth quirking up on one side as she thought of her upcoming detention and how it would be spent sitting in the back of the room getting wasted.

* * *

 

“Hey, do you remember that time we both got detention? I was late for class and you flipped someone off. Then we got drunk.”

Dee looked up from the phonics cards in her hands. Charlie was sitting across the table from her, staring off at nothing in particular. She’d just asked him what sound a B makes. His response was to go down yet another rabbit hole of memories for the third time that night. “Yeah, a little bit. Just like I remembered when we got into that fight with Jake behind the school and when you asked me to write your papers for you?” She sighed, while shuffling her cards. “Why do you keep bringing up the past?”

Charlie shrugged and glanced at her. “No reason. I just thought of it.”

“Well, could you keep your mind on what we’re doing. Randomly thinking of when we both got detention a million years ago won’t get you any closer to reading.” _And it’s not as fun as hearing you mess up words._

He was quiet for a moment before begrudgingly admitting, “Yeah, you’re right. So what was the letter? B?”

They fell back into their lessons and thankfully for her, Charlie left their past where it belonged- in the back of her mind buried under years of regret. She especially didn’t want to recall their shared detention from sophomore year. For him it might hold a different meaning, but for Dee that detention would always be the start of emotions she’d spend most of her adulthood trying to repress.


	4. Chapter 4

The detention room was empty. That was a relief. The less people there, the less likely Charlie would be picked on. He could just sit in the back and daydream. Usually a song would play in his head. Sometimes he even came up with ones of his own. He never actually did what detention was for. Homework. After sitting down, Charlie placed his bag in his lap and pulled out a random book, some spiral notebook paper, and a pen. He had to at least look busy. A couple of doodles on his paper later he heard someone come in, but Charlie didn’t look up. Sometimes eye contact made it worse. If he pretended not to exist the bullies might forget he was there. The rule was don’t make them notice you, but if they do, then make them laugh. It was a routine that worked most of the time. But not today, because he was noticed.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he heard from the seat next to him. Charlie didn’t have to glance up to know it was Dee, and that meant it was okay that he’d been recognized. Detention with her wouldn’t be so bad.

“I uh, got detention for being late to class,” he answered, looking up from his paper.

“Seems kinda harsh for just being late,” she replied.

“Well, it was my third time this week. The more I sneak off behind the school the more it happens.”

Dee frowned a little. “Sorry.”

Charlie shrugged. The occasional detention was worth her company, but he wouldn’t say that out loud. “So what’re you in for?” he asked like they did in the movies when someone was arrested.

“Flipping off the class,” she replied and then a second later added, “stop smirking at me.” Charlie didn’t even know he’d been smiling.

“No, I uh, was just thinking about how that was a very Dee thing to do to get put in here,” he complimented. “Much more exciting than being late to class anyway.”

“Yeah, guess I am pretty badass.” When she laughed Charlie assumed she’d meant it as a joke, but he didn’t think it was too far from the truth.

“Shhhh!”

The shushing had come from the front of the classroom. A teacher was now sitting at the large desk that had been empty the last time Charlie looked. It wasn’t even the start of detention yet. “Bitch,” Dee muttered, which made him snort. “Hey,” she whispered, glancing down at her bag in an obvious way. “When she’s not looking, do you wanna share the thermos?”

“Hell yeah!” Charlie replied just a little too loudly, causing the teacher to repeat her "be quiet" sound. Dee gave him a wide smile showing off her teeth and a moment later pulled out the thermos, took a sip and handed it over when the teacher wasn’t looking.

For the next hour the two of them slowly got drunk to the point that they were giggling enough to be separated by the teacher. The thermos was left with Charlie, who couldn’t get it to Dee anymore. He thought about finishing it, but still had enough of his mind working to understand that this would be rude. It was Dee’s. Her payment for the paper. Charlie looked over at her. She was staring at him with glazed over eyes he’d seen plenty of times before. Usually when he looked in the mirror. He waved and she jerked upright. Well, as best as she could with that metal cage. But it was enough that Charlie wondered if she felt caught in the act. Dee looked guilty almost. After giving him a little wave back, she stared down at the book on her desk and didn’t look up again until detention was dismissed.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Charlie asked, meeting her outside the classroom. “You seem a little,” he leaned in and bumped into her brace, “wasted.”

“Well, you seem a little drunk too,” Dee replied, giving him a gentle push. When she hiccupped they both laughed.

“No, but really,” Charlie said. “Do you … want me to?” He still had the business card. He could find it. Maybe.

“No, that’s fine. My mom’s picking me up.” Her eyes widened suddenly. “Why don’t you come with us? She can drop you off.”

Charlie thought about where Dee lived. He thought about where he lived, and then quickly shook his head. “Nah, it’ll be good for me to walk some of this stuff off before I get home. Don’t want my mom getting suspicious that I’ve been stealing her whiskey.”

_That’s a good excuse. Believable._

Dee’s eyes fell to her shoes for a few seconds before she looked back up at him. Her face told him she was disappointed, but her voice was all playful teasing. “Okay, well your loss.” He returned the thermos and they parted ways; Dee stumbling one way and him the other.

Once Charlie was out of the building, he wondered if she’d get in trouble for being drunk and if it would come back to him. But Dee’s mom was way too self-involved to notice anything her daughter did. That’s what Dee had told him anyway. And then Charlie had a thought- Mrs. Reynolds was missing out. Because underneath all that metal was a girl worth getting to know.

* * *

 

Charlie had just finished fixing the lock on one of the men’s bathroom stalls, wondering how he was going to sneak out and meet Dee at her apartment, when Mac barged in. “Charlie, I need your help with karate dancing.”

“Uh, I’m kinda busy here,” he mumbled, fiddling with the lock again as if he hadn’t already fixed it.

“Dennis is being a total baby. My idea isn’t stupid. I think he’s just jealous he didn’t think of it first and that’s why he won’t let me do it.”

Charlie shifted his gaze to Mac and then looked back at the lock. The idea of Dennis being jealous of anything Mac came up with didn’t sound right, but Charlie wanted him to go away so he said, “You should confront him. Tell him this karate uh ... thing is going to happen with or without his help.” He had no idea what Mac was talking about, but figured Dennis was probably right in thinking it was stupid. When Mac didn’t move, Charlie turned to face him and added, “And you should do it now. Strike while it’s hot.” That was a phrase he’d heard someone say earlier. Seemed like the right time to use it. Whatever it meant.

“Now?” Mac said, sounding less determined than when he first came in. “But what if-”

“What if what? You’re a man, aren’t you?” Charlie raised his voice and Mac shrunk back. “Well, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go! I can’t help you if you won’t even help yourself.”

Mac did a double take, not used to Charlie being so forceful, and made like he was going to leave when Frank suddenly burst through the door. “We need to talk,” he said to Charlie, who responded by throwing his hands up in frustration.

“What’s the deal with you guys? I didn’t come in here to have conversations and solve everyone’s problems.”

“Problems?” Frank said. “No, I just don’t want you to fix up my new glory hole. I haven’t had a chance to test it out. Dennis said you were in here fixing things.”

“Not anymore. I’m done and uh, now I’m leaving, so …” Charlie awkwardly maneuvered between the two of them and out the bathroom’s door. It wasn’t the best way to avoid suspicion, but that feeling he hated- where his skin crawled and his heart beat like a drum- was happening. Dee called it anxiety. Charlie called it fucking annoying.

He was hoping it would quit once he left Paddy’s, but didn’t even get that far before another person stopped him. “Hey Charlie, where are you going?”

This time it was Dennis. Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned around. “Uh, you know, just out. My shift’s over.”

Dennis laughed. “Yeah, but when has that ever meant you actually left. We’re all just here all the time. It’s what we do. But more importantly, it’s what _you_ do.”

Charlie shrugged and glanced nervously at Mac and Frank coming out of the men’s room. “I’ve just got stuff to do.”

“Stuff, hmmm.” Dennis was using his thinking voice, which Charlie knew meant he already knew the answer and was just being dramatic. “You know what I think? I think you’re up to something. A scheme. Without us.”

“Yes,” Mac jumped in, pointing at Charlie. “You’ve been very different lately. You didn’t even want to help me with karate dancing.”

“Mac, no one wants to help you with your karate dancing,” Dennis remarked. “But Charlie here, he’s got something going on.”

“Whaaat?” Charlie’s voice rose in pitch, his anxiety boiling over. “That’s uh, crazy talk. I mean do you really think I could plan something without you guys? Come on, I’m uh,” Charlie searched for a word, “illiterate.”

“That is true,” Mac agreed, nodding his head.

“Yeaahh, how could I possibly pull off anything without someone who can read for me? Come on, it’s impossible.” Charlie let out a loud strained laugh that didn't sound remotely normal and wanted to kick himself over it. Dennis still looked skeptical, but let the subject drop and was soon arguing with Mac again about that karate thingy. Charlie sighed and went to leave, only stopping when Frank said his name. “Yeah?”

“If you really are doing something, you’d tell me, right? You’ll let me in on it.”

“Of course, Frank.” Charlie placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re buddies. I tell you everything.”

 

~***~

 

“Oh my god, Dee, I think they’re catching on. Why are they all suddenly so suspicious? It’s like they want to know everything about me. Well, I can’t tell them everything about me. That’s not how life works.”

Dee was sitting on her couch, going through a stack of cards. They were moving on to what letters sound like when you put two together. Charlie’s favorite was the “sh” sound, because it was the beginning of the word shit. “Calm down, Charlie,” she told him and then held up his favorite letter combo. “And do this.” When Charlie didn’t respond to her joke Dee asked, “Don’t you get it? Come on, it’s funny.”

“Ha ha,” he fake laughed. “But I’m not gonna shhh, and I’m not gonna calm down when everyone is trying to find out what we’re doing?” Fuck, was he stressed, and after running his hands through his hair until the ends stuck straight up, Charlie began pacing the tiny area of Dee’s living room. Three steps this way. Three steps that way. The movement felt calming.

“Correction,” Charlie heard Dee say as he moved. “It’s what _you’re_ doing. Not me. They couldn't give a shit about what’s happening in my life. And may I remind you that not telling everyone was your idea. What do you care if they know? You’re acting like we’re in high school again. When you were embarrassed of me.”

Charlie stopped mid-pace. “I was never embarrassed of you.” At least he didn’t think. His memories of being a teen were hazy, like after taking a hit off an inhalant. Everything was fuzzy and warm feeling. But the ones containing Dee were sharper. They’d been each other’s support. Good memories most of the time.

“Oh yeah, sure,” she said, sounding sarcastic. “So bad you didn’t want to eat lunch with me in the library or ride home with me after detention. Couldn’t let everyone see you with the aluminum monster.”

Charlie squinted at her. Usually he was the one who brought up their past. Dee didn’t like being reminded of it, because she remembered all the bad parts. “I never did that,” he stated. Or wait. Maybe he had. But there were reasons for him avoiding those things. And neither of them were the one Dee mentioned. “No, no, actually you’re right,” he corrected, before she had the chance to argue. Because this was Dee and he knew that she would. “I didn’t want to go in the library for the same reason I don’t want the gang to know what I’m doing over here three nights a week. And it’s _not_ because I’m embarrassed … of you, anyway.”

Dee tilted her chin up. She was interested to know, but expecting him to lie.

“Because I’m embarrassed that I can’t fucking read.”

Predictably, Dee was unconvinced and rolled her eyes. “Bullshit.”

“No, really. It bothers me when people bust my balls over it. Mac and Dennis. Even Frank. And in high school it was waaay worse. Until you started writing my papers for me, I was constantly harassed over it. Dirtgrub can’t read, he’s as dumb as piss in a can.”

“Piss in a can?” Dee scrunched her nose

“It’s an expression. People use it,” Charlie defended. “But, you know, I figured in the library others would think you were teaching me how to read. All those books.”

“Jesus Charlie, I only wanted to show you the computer. Playing _Oregon Trail_ can’t teach you how to read.”

Charlie shrugged. He didn’t remember her suggesting they play _Oregon Trail_ , but she did have the superior memory, one not filled with holes like swiss cheese. _Mmmm cheese_. “My solution was better anyway," he said before he could fade into a daydream involving his favorite dairy product. "Going to your house instead ... we had lots of good times there. We had fun.” At least he hoped she thought they were fun. Dee had a way of tearing down his happy memories.

When her lips pressed tightly together, Charlie was convinced she was about to tell him how wrong he was, but amazingly she didn’t. Dee just gave him a slight smile before agreeing, “Yeah, we did.”

“And I didn’t want your mom driving me home that one time, because I was embarrassed of where I lived. You had such a big house. Everyone knew the Reynolds were loaded. I had nothing. Not even a dad.”

Dee looked sympathetic. “Goddammit Charlie, I never cared where you came from.”

“I know that now, but at sixteen I was worried. You were my only real friend.” His confession surprised Dee and she made a little noise, like she was getting emotional or something. Charlie panicked. “Okay, well, now that that’s dealt with, let’s get started so I can be on my way to banging the waitress.” He plopped down next to her, intentionally knocking some of the phonics cards over and ruining whatever moment they were about to have.

He just couldn’t deal with those feelings right now. Or maybe ever.


	5. Chapter 5

The first time Charlie visited Dee’s house he took the city bus and then walked the rest of the way there, which Dee thought was ridiculous. After some convincing on her part, he agreed to ride in her mom’s car after school. Because of the back brace, Dee was dependent on her parents for rides, unlike Dennis who got his own car on their sixteenth birthday. They promised her one too when the brace came off. She doubted they’d follow through though, since Dennis was the golden boy and Dee was just the daughter with all the medical problems.

Unfortunately, having Charlie tag along didn’t work out so well either as his dressed down outfit of random T-shirt and ratty jeans became the topic of discussion for her mom the whole ride home, forcing Dee to apologize once she and Charlie were alone in her room.

“I’m used to it,” he responded with a shrug. “In case you haven’t noticed, most people think I’m weird.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t have to make that comment about your clothes. Having holes in your jeans doesn’t mean you’re poor. Hello! Ever heard of Kurt Cobain? I swear my parents are so fucking classist.”

“What’s classist?” Charlie asked.

Dee’s habit of dropping big words into conversations, hoping others would think she was smart, was a deflection tactic she’d used for years. It sometimes worked in taking the focus off her brace. But with Charlie that wasn’t necessary. She just kept forgetting, since he was the only person who acted like that goddamn thing wasn’t an eye sore.

“Oh, you know, it’s when a person is jealous of someone with a good fashion sense. Like how my mom is jealous of you and your totally bangin’ outfit.” Dee thought it was a good joke deserving of at least a chuckle, but Charlie was already busy staring at her CD tower just like he had on his first visit. She’d learned fast how much of a music geek Charlie was, and according to him she had the biggest music collection he’d seen any one person own.

“How ‘bout you pop this one into your player,” he suggested turning around with a CD in hand.

Dee took the case from him and smirked. “Never knew a sixteen year old guy who loved musicals as much as you do. Are you sure you’re not gay?”

“Gay for good music and _Andrew Lloyd Webber_. And hey, it’s your CD anyway. Looks like you’re the gay one.”

“Charlie, that’s not how it works,” Dee laughed, pulling the disc from its case and placing it in her player. “But whatever, _Phantom of the Opera_ it is then.”

It was later in the evening when they were busy playing her _Super Nintendo_ \- the consolation birthday gift she got instead of a car- that Charlie mentioned why he liked musicals so much. “It’s better when people sing through their problems instead of yell. Plus I’m gonna write one someday. Get famous and have lots of money.”

“Will it star you as a mysterious disfigured man haunting an opera house, or better yet, a bar in downtown Philly?” Dee teased.

Charlie snorted as he kept his eyes on the TV. “No, but maybe I’ll write one about a princess bartender locked in a metal cage who needs a prince to free her.” He glanced her way with a smug look on his face, and Dee rolled her eyes.

“Puhleeeze. I am _not_ a princess that needs a prince to rescue me.”

“Who said I was talking about you?” Charlie asked, turning back to the screen just in time to watch his player die.

Dee retaliated by throwing a stuffed unicorn in his direction. When Charlie tossed it back, the animal bounced off her halo. “I’ll tell you one thing,” he said, shielding his face when Dee threatened to strike back with the fluffy creature again. “For someone who says she’s not a princess you sure do have a whole lot of unicorns in your room.”

Dee lowered the stuffed animal and Charlie brought his arms down. “Well, I haven’t really redecorated since I got the back brace and twelve year old me liked unicorns. It’s kind of difficult moving around in this thing. Just getting through a day at school is usually enough for me.”

Charlie frowned like he felt sorry for her. Dee hated pity and quickly moved to change the subject. “Looks like you’re dead.”

“Huh?”

“In the game. I won.” She pointed at the TV, which had returned to the start menu. “You want to go again?”

Charlie dropped his controller. “Nah, I better get home. Don’t want to miss the bus and be late for dinner.”

“My mom could take you,” Dee suggested, standing along with Charlie. When he refused, she didn’t push him. If it were an option, she wouldn’t ride with that bitch either.

“Well, at least take this.” Dee went to her CD player and took out the disc. “So you can listen to _Phantom_ whenever you want and practice for that future musical.”

“Wow, thanks, Dee,” he said, taking the album. A smile grew across his face so big that Dee’s stomach flipped. She didn’t like the feeling.

“Whatever. I just don’t want you playing it every time you come over.” Her reply was sarcastic, intentionally trying to lessen the significance of her gift and she hated herself a little bit that it made his happy expression fall somewhat.

But that was just who Dee was. Maybe one day she’d be able to show others what it was like inside, but for now those emotions were too costly to reveal. Keeping them bottled up where no one could judge her for them was the only option.

* * *

 

After the unicorns trotted past, Dee became a little suspicious. But it wasn’t until she turned to Dennis and noticed his hand was in hers, that she became fully aware something wasn’t right. “Okay, what’s going on?” she asked, yanking her hand away. “Did I drop acid?” She paused as alarm filled her. “Oh shit, are we smoking crack again?”

“Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, sis?” Dennis asked, his voice annoyingly angelic. On closer inspection there appeared to be a shimmering glow around his head.

_Yeah, I’m definitely on something._

“And what do you know about what I want?” Dee scoffed.

“Oh, I know. We all know.”

“Who’s we?” She was two seconds away from shoving this version of her brother to the ground and running the hell away.

“We know you’ve always wanted a pet unicorn. And my approval. And Charlie in your bed.”

“What?!” Dee said, and in an instant the scene changed. She was in her bed and Charlie was … _oh_ _fuuuuuck!_

“Dee, Dee, Dee, snap outta it.”

That was Charlie’s voice and he was definitely not in her bed. He was standing over her wearing all his clothes and- Dee swept her gaze down her body and let out a sigh of relief- she was wearing all of hers. “What’s going on?” she asked, sitting up.

“You were moaning loudly in your sleep. Right in my ear. And then you yelled fuck a few times.” Charlie sat down next to her on the couch. “Glad you did though, otherwise I might’ve overslept.”

Dee glanced around the room. Their phonics cards were strewn across the floor. The TV was playing some infomercial for spray on hair. The kitchen looked like one of them had unsuccessfully tried to make a meal containing lots of cheese. “We fell asleep?”

“Yeah. Probably not a good idea to follow a reading lesson with whiskey.”

The memory of Charlie bringing over the bottle of jack ‘for old times sake’ hit Dee like a ton of bricks. It now sat empty on her small kitchen table, which coincidentally looked like it had also been hit by a ton a bricks. “No, probably not,” she groaned rubbing her temples.

“So why were you yelling?” Charlie asked and the memory of him from her dream forced Dee to stare down at her hands in embarrassment.

“Oh, that.” She stalled, examining her chipped black nail polish. _I definitely need a manicure. And to see my therapist, because fuck! I just had a weird sex dream. About Charlie!_ “There were uh, unicorns in my head. That is, I was dreaming. I dreamt about unicorns,” Dee struggled to explain, omitting some of the more salacious details.

“I thought you liked unicorns. You used to have them all over your room. Remember I used to tease you?”

 _Ugh why does he have such a good memory when it comes to me?_ “Well, Dennis was there too. He was being super nice and it freaked me out.” When Charlie still didn’t buy it she added, “And rats. There was an army of rats chasing me.”

He nodded. “Well, that sounds like a nightmare to me. I’d be screaming my head off too. But in my version I’d try not to fall asleep on my friend and blow out their eardrums.” Charlie stuck his finger in his ear and moved it up and down a few times. When he grinned to show it was a joke, the Charlie from her dream flashed before her eyes and she gulped. Mumbling about having to pee, Dee ran off to the bathroom in need of a distraction.

“Well, I’m just gonna get going before Frank starts searching for me," Charlie said from the other room.

“Okay, bye,” she shouted back and then heard the front door creak open and shut.

When Dee finally emerged from the bathroom with painkillers in hand to head off her impending hangover, she poured a glass of water and sat down at the table. After swallowing the pills, a loud burp followed that tasted a whole lot like a grilled cheese sandwich mixed with whiskey and the sight of the empty bottle on the table triggered her gag reflex. She went to throw it away, but stopped after catching sight of the note underneath.

A few seconds passed before she recognized Charlie’s handwriting, but after reading his note, her whiskey induced nausea faded as she beamed over the progress her _student_ had made. Sure it was messy as hell, but there wasn’t a single spelling mistake.

_Thanks for last night. Had fun. Sorry for the mess._

_Charlie_

 

~***~

 

It was the sound of her alarm and not Charlie shouting that woke her the second time that morning. Neither were preferable to just being able to sleep the fuck in, but if she was forced to choose, Charlie was the better of the two. Her apartment always felt empty when he was gone. Dee had gotten used to his company enough that she actually missed him when he left. So much so that apparently sex dreams were the new norm? _Whatever_. She just needed to get laid and with Charlie being over her place so much lately, her brain must've gotten the two mixed up. Still, it would probably be smart to make an appointment with her therapist just to be safe.

Dee ended up being late for her shift, but that wasn’t unusual for her. When she walked in, Frank made some comment using her given name, which meant he either wanted something or she was being lectured. Dee didn’t know or care, because it was a struggle to just act normal. Once she hit her thirties it didn’t matter if she was an alcoholic or not. Whiskey was one of the worst offenders for hangovers. Sure, as a teen getting buzzed between classes was no problem, but now … fuck, Dee felt old.

“Deandra, are you going to help or not?”

“Or not,” she answered not even knowing what Frank was talking about. Her eyes focused on the wood grain of the bar counter as she willed herself not to gag.

“Come on, Dee,” she heard Mac whine. “We helped you when you did that uh, thing.”

She finally looked up, mostly over being incredulous. “When have any of you dickwads ever helped me with anything?” But instead of Mac, her gaze met Charlie’s. He was standing off to the side watching the other two doing god knows what with a banner. He smiled, just like he had earlier sitting on her couch … and in her dream. What was it about his smile? It always made her feel weird. “What exactly are you doing?” she asked, moving out from behind the bar. “Paddy’s Karate Dance Party,” she slowly read the white words printed across the black banner, and then side-eyed Charlie. They both snickered. “Are you serious?”

“Oh, he’s very serious,” Dennis said, suddenly walking out from the back office.

“Am I missing something? I thought you told him karate dancing was stupid,” Dee asked, but when her brother opened his mouth to reply, she held up her hand before he could get a word out. “You know what? Never mind.” She’d been out of the loop lately with their rackets and didn’t want a rundown of why Mac’s idea had suddenly become a good one. It was probably long and convoluted and not something she wanted to hear with the way her head was throbbing. “Just give me the least amount of work possible, okay. I have the worst hangover.”

“Huh, that’s funny. So does Charlie,” Mac commented and another knot was added to Dee’s already twisted stomach.

“Really?” she asked as casually as possible.

“Yeah, you guys are total pussies.”

It was a sexist insult, but Dee let Mac’s words slide, because it got her and Charlie off the hook. These three were probably too stupid to figure out what was actually going on between them anyway. “Yeah, I’m a pussy. I have one don’t I?”

“Eww gross, Dee.” Mac made a face. “No one wants to think that about you.”

She shrugged and caught Charlie’s eye. He was smiling again, probably relieved to know that he was safe. And Dee was happy to keep their secret for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure when Dee got her back brace. If it's mentioned in canon, just let me know and I'll amend this chapter. As always thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

When Dee left with her family for the whole month of August, Charlie realized for the first time just how much he depended on her. Especially during summer when there was nothing to do but sit at home and get high or throw rocks at trains. Uncle Jack coming to stay halfway through August meant Charlie was crashing at Ron’s most nights. That place sucked too. Not as much as being around Uncle Jack. He was a creep. Charlie would take a house reeking of cigarettes over his weird-ass uncle any day. Really it was Ron’s dad that freaked him out. He wasn’t even there. Just the thought that he might burst through the door at any minute kept Charlie looking over his shoulder all the time.

A week before school started, Charlie got tired of waiting and showed up at Dee’s doorstep. Usually he only visited when they made plans. But he was getting itchy. Something about her calmed him down and he needed a fix. Ron’s weed just wasn’t working anymore. So he came uninvited. If anything, maybe he’d find out when she got back.

Their maid answered the door and recognized Charlie. “Wait here. I’ll get Deandra,” she told him, causing his heart to suddenly speed up. He wasn’t expecting her to actually be there.

A few minutes later, Dee appeared in the doorway and like an idiot he said, “Hey!” way too loudly. She jumped in surprise and he coughed to hide his embarrassment. “I mean uh, wow, you uh, look dark.” Her eyebrows shot up, which probably meant he’d said something wrong. Again. “Well, not dark, but tan. Were you in the sun a lot on vacation?”

“Yeah, but I’d hardly call it a vacation. My parents left for France and dropped Dennis and me off at Pop-Pop’s. He always sends us to this camp for a week. I hate it. A lot of people speak German there. It’s so fucking weird.” She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and Charlie noticed that it looked sun-bleached. And pretty. “So where exactly have you been?” Dee asked, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a mom look. Charlie wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but he could tell she wasn’t happy.

“Me? I’ve been in Philly the whole summer.”

“Well, I tried calling you twice when I got back yesterday. Your mom said you were out with a friend, but didn’t know who. What friend?”

“Oh, shit!” He hit his forehead. “I was at Ron’s. But you don’t have his number, do you?” _Dumb, idiot, Charlie._ “Sorry. I had to get out of my house. I actually thought I’d be back home by now, but Uncle Jack’s still there.” Dee seemed okay with his answer which was a relief, but also didn’t make much sense since she never hid her annoyance when he hung out with Ron before. Charlie decided not to read too much into it. ”But I’m here now. And hey, the school sent my mom a letter saying I get to move on to 11th grade.”

“That’s great news, Charlie.” She lifted up her hand for a high five and he slammed his palm into hers. “Did you get your class list yet?”

Charlie nodded. Until that year, he’d never cared what classes the school put him in. All were just something to get through anyway. But this time he’d made a request. “And guess what. I’m in drama. Just like you, right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were into that.”

If it wasn’t for Dee he wouldn’t have been. “I thought it might be fun. Plus you know I like that musical stuff. Might be good practice for the future.”

“Well, they don’t always do musicals, Charlie. Sometimes it’s boring stuff like _Shakespeare_.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I don’t know for sure, but the teacher did mention they might do _Hamlet_ when I went to see him last year. Hey, maybe I could be _Ophelia_ , since you know, I’m already crazy anyway for hanging out with you.”

Charlie wasn’t offended; he knew when she was teasing. But whoever this _Ham Let_ and _Oh Feleeuh_ were (not to mention the guy with the really weird name _Shakes Spear_ ) he had no idea. “Yeah, I think we’re both pretty crazy,” he agreed, knowing it was better to play along than remind her how stupid he was sometimes.

“Sooo,” Dee said, opening the door wider. “Do you wanna celebrate your graduation into the 11th grade with some _Super Mario Bros_? Pop-Pop got me a new game before we left. Along with some ugly cross necklace I will _not_ be wearing. As if I needed any more metal on my body.”

Charlie glanced at her neck and wondered what it might look like without the brace covering most of it. “Sure, let’s go play some Mario,” he replied, then followed her through the door. And as they headed for her bedroom, he let out a little sigh, feeling at ease for the first time in what seemed like forever.

 

~***~

 

He ended up staying for dinner, which was just them ordering pizza and sneaking it into her room. When Dennis came barging in to steal some, Dee refused. “I bought this with my money. Why don’t you go take your car and pick up your own goddamn pizza?”

Charlie felt awkward and tried to blend in with the stuffed animals on Dee’s bed, but Dennis still noticed him. “I see you have company. Hello, dirtgrub.”

“Don’t call him that!”

Dee looked like she might deck her brother, but backed off when he wagged his finger at her and said, “Remember the last time you hit me. Mom took away your TV. How would you play video games then? It’s not like you do much else. Think about it. Life would be pretty boring for the next few weeks if you hurt my beautiful face.”

“You're a dick.” Dee sat down next to Charlie on her bed.

Dennis shrugged. “That may be,” he replied with a smirk on his face that made Charlie nervous. “But I’m not a total monster, so if it’ll make you happy, sis,” Dennis turned to him, “Hey, Charlie. Tell Mac I said, hi.” Then he left, but not before swiping two pieces of pizza.

Dee got up and slammed the door. “Ugh, Dennis is so annoying. He gets everything and still has to take what’s mine.” Charlie kept quiet. He liked Dee, but didn’t want to get on her brother’s bad side. “Be glad you don’t have any siblings,” she continued, grabbing the pizza box and removing the last slice from it. After taking a bite and swallowing she looked back to him and asked, “So, who’s Mac?”

“Oh, that’s Ron. He’s trying to get people to stop calling him Ronnie the rat, so he’s Mac now. I still call him Ron though. Hard to change after so long.”

“Guess that’s why people still call us names. Everyone’s just used to it. Well, I’d like to knock my brace into that asshole Adriano who came up with aluminum monster and dirtgrub.” Dee finished her pizza and licked the grease from her fingers. “I’m sorry Dennis called you dirtgrub. I want my room to be safe from the shitty way everyone else treats us.”

“It’s okay,” Charlie replied. “I like hanging out here. And it’s just Dennis anyway. People only like him for his money. That’s what Ron says.” He stopped abruptly, having already broken his rule of not taking sides.

“Having money hasn’t helped all the much with getting people to like _me_ ,” Dee said softly, almost like she wasn’t talking to him. She walked over to her window and stared out.

Charlie hopped from the bed and stood beside her. “It’s nicer when people like you for you. And I like you because you fight back when people say shitty things. And you make me laugh. A real friend doesn’t care about money.”

Dee snorted. “What’re you an afterschool special? Just when did you get so deep, Charlie?”

Was he deep? He’d just said what he thought was true. “I’m a musician. Guess it comes with the territory,” Charlie joked.

“Well Mr. Musician Man, one day you should write a song about our fucked up childhood. Put _that_ in your musical. The ballad of dirtgrub and aluminum monster.”

“I’ll get right on that,” he replied, chuckling.

It was quiet for a little while as Dee kept her eyes focused on the yard outside her window. Charlie saw the gardener pulling weeds and it reminded him of what was in his pocket. “Oh, I got something for you. Or us, I guess. I mean I didn’t know you were going to be here, so I was just planning on smoking it later, but why not now?”

“Huh?” Dee finally looked at him just as he pulled out the plastic bag with his joint inside.

“Do you wanna smoke?” He held up the joint.

Dee seemed unsure at first. She’d never smoked weed before. But then in her typical Dee way she quickly made up her mind by answering, “Fuck it. Why not?”

* * *

 

The stacks of papers seemed endless and Dee rolled her eyes so far back into her head that she imagined them getting stuck that way. _Good_. At least she wouldn’t have to stare at this idiocy anymore. But unfortunately they swung back forward, forcing Dee to follow through with her promise. “Flyers? Really?” she finally said.

“Hey, it’s the easiest part. You did want the least amount of work,” Mac reminded her. He was standing in the middle of the bar, shirtless. So was Dennis. She didn’t _even_ want to know.

“It’s not like you could help with the choreography or anything,” Dennis said while staring unblinkingly into Mac’s eyes. “Not with those long and awkward birdlike limbs of yours.”

“Yeah, Dee looks like a bird,” Mac laughed.

“Don’t lose focus. Concentrate,” Dennis ordered.

“Uh, you do realize most advertising is done online now through social media. These flyers are just going to get torn down by homeless dudes who’ll use them to light their fires,” Dee said, but her brother and Mac weren’t listening. They’d begun some odd dance routine that involved lots of kicking, karate chops, and intense stares.

Dee grasped a stack of flyers and walked out the door. She’d hang half of them in places the guys frequented and then toss the rest in some dumpster. “Hey Dee! Wait up,” she heard halfway down the block.

Turning around, she saw Charlie running towards her. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Want some help? I brought supplies,” he said, removing tape from one pocket and a joint from another, “and something to make this a little less boring. I just had to get outta there. Dennis and Mac are being way too intense for me.”

“Yeah, they should get a room for that dancing stuff and just _do it_ already,” Dee sarcastically suggested, vaguely mentioning the open secret that was Dennis and Mac’s unspoken attraction to each other. Charlie’s responding laugh echoed off the walls of the alley they turned down, and he took a portion of her papers.

“Karate Dance Party at Paddy’s Pub. Saturday, June 8th. DJ Karate Chop to perform. Bring your black belt for some awesome dance moves performed by Dennis and Mac.”

Dee was impressed. Not with the flyer. No, that sounded awful. She couldn’t imagine anyone who would want to be there to see Dennis and Mac dance, and assumed DJ Karate Chop was probably Frank in a racist outfit. But Charlie on the other hand. _Wow_. “Looks like all those lessons are paying off. You might not need my help anymore.” She gently bumped her shoulder into his. “Better have my song ready.”

Charlie stopped in his tracks after reaching the other side of the alley and emerging into the street. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Come on. You just read that whole flyer perfectly. Big words and all.”

He shrugged. “I guess. But let’s at least go for a few more weeks. I want to read perfectly.”

“For the waitress? What are you planning on quoting? _Shakespeare_? I can promise you, it would be lost on someone like her.”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe she’d like it.” Charlie walked over to a street lamp and taped one of the flyers onto it. “I still remember some of what I said from _Hamlet_.”

“Charlie, you were _Second Clown_ and barely had any lines,” Dee reminded him, taping a flyer onto another lamp a few feet from his.

“Well, I-I need time. To write your song that is.”

Dee stared at the flyers in her hands for a moment and then brought her gaze back up to Charlie, an idea forming in her head. “Okay, but you should totally invite the waitress to karate night extravaganza.”

Charlie whipped his head in her direction like she was crazy. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

“What? Why not? It’ll be perfect. Compared to Dennis and Mac and their weird dancing, you’ll look like the perfect catch! And then you can start reciting _Shakespeare_ from a book or whatever.” Charlie’s arms tightened around the flyers and his forehead creased. He wasn’t sold on her idea. “Or just, you know, think about it,” Dee said, and then cradling the papers against her chest with one arm, she used to the other to remove the joint from Charlie’s jacket. “But in the meantime, let’s light this bad boy up the next time we have privacy.”

Dee made sure their alone time came sooner rather than later and took a detour down the nearest alleyway. “Remember the first time you smoked pot, you were with me?” Charlie asked after they’d passed the joint between them a few times and Dee was feeling pretty good.

“Yeah, we were doing almost the same thing we are now. Well, minus the flyers.” _Where are they anyway?_ She swept her gaze up and down the alley before finding the papers at her feet. _Oh yeah, there they are._ She giggled. “You were a bad influence on me.”

“Hey!” Charlie sounded offended.

“No, it’s fine. In the sea of destructive people surrounding me, you were the only one who cared. Truthfully, we both were set up for failure. But at least we had each other.”

“Awww, Dee. That’s like poetic and shit.”

It was quiet for a moment before they both burst out laughing.

“You should definitely quote me to the waitress and not that douchebag  _Shakespeare_ ,” Dee said after taking one last hit of what was now a roach and handing it back to Charlie. “Well, back to work," she stated, picking up the flyers again.

Charlie put the roach out and placed it back in his pocket while mumbling, “The ballad of dirtgrub and aluminum monster.”

“What?” Dee asked as they began walking.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking,” Charlie replied, and then very obviously changed the subject by yelling, “Whoa! Do you see that pile of dog shit over there? It’s huge!”

Dee scrunched her nose. “Gross, Charlie. I don’t want to see that.”

“Your loss,” he said and then breezed past her out of the alleyway.


	7. Chapter 7

Charlie wasn’t impressed with prom. Junior prom for him. But there were seniors around too. It didn’t matter. The place looked like a kid’s birthday party with balloons and streamers and all those bright colors that girls were supposed to like. Well, not Dee. Even though her room was covered in rainbow unicorns, she wore mostly black as a way to blend in. People were always going to notice her back brace, so why draw more attention with noticeable colors? That’s what she’d told him anyway.

She also told him to meet her at prom. A senior had asked her to be his date, but she wanted Charlie there too just in case things went to shit. He hated being her spare, but also thought that’s what friends did for each other. Plus, Ron said prom was a good opportunity to deal. That meant Charlie didn’t have to look like a total loser standing around alone if Dee’s date ended up being good and she left with him. He didn’t think she would, because it just all seemed so strange. Some random senior they barely knew asking Dee to go to prom with him? Weird. Charlie hadn’t told her that though. Why should he? She could make her own choices. Just like him. He could’ve told her “no” and stayed home. It would’ve saved him the hassle of buying a clip on tie and suit jacket at the thrift store. But he chose to be at prom, because Dee was his friend and she’d asked him to.

So where exactly was his friend now?

Charlie stared out into the crowd of bodies slow dancing to that one _Whitney Houston_ song about always loving her bodyguard or something. He’d only seen the movie because of Dee, and knew of at least three songs from the soundtrack that prom had already played. And nowhere dancing to any of them was Dee. She wasn’t sitting in the bleachers or near the table with the spiked punch and finger foods either. Charlie sighed and headed back towards the table. He’d already been there like five times, because it was the only thing in the overly decorated school gym that held his interest. He downed another glass of punch adding to the buzz he already felt from his last three. Charlie finished it with a loud burp and some girl with big poufy sleeves and even bigger hair sneered at him. Whatever. Dee would’ve laughed.

He searched the crowd again and caught sight of Ron standing next to an angry looking Dennis. Charlie hoped they weren’t about to fight. He didn’t think he could defend Ron. Or if he should. People might make fun of them. Dirtgrub protecting his boyfriend Ronnie the rat or something homophobic like that. But when Ron reached out and patted Dennis on the back, Charlie thought it looked like he was trying to comfort him, and his opinion of the scene changed. Maybe Dennis and Ron were closer than he thought. Not just dealer and customer. But before he could think too deeply into what that meant, his mind switched gears when Dennis suddenly rushed over to a guy and clocked him in the nose. For a second everyone froze while _Whitney_ finished her song with a whispery, “yoooouuuuu.” Then Charlie joined the gawkers gathering around the fighting pair who upon closer inspection weren’t actually fighting anymore. Dennis’s victim was knocked out cold, his face all squashed up against the gym floor. Charlie thought he looked funny and laughed, but stopped when the guy’s distorted features started looking familiar. “What the fuck?” Charlie muttered to himself. Dennis Reynolds had just punched his twin sister’s date unconscious.

 

~***~ 

 

Dee tried to move into a comfortable position on her bed, but it was useless. Sleeping in a back brace was completely impossible. There was a different one she wore at night, but that brace was a pain in the ass getting into by herself, and leaving her room searching for someone to help was out of the question. No way. A big fat fucking nope! Not when she was so utterly mortified over being stood up. Not only stood up, but punked. Eric Thomas had called just before he was supposed to pick her up for prom and yelled, “Psych!” into her ear. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was a bet he’d made with one of his asshole friends- ask the freak to prom and get X amount of dollars. Or maybe he just liked hurting others for fun. Either way, she should have done her homework on him before accepting his invitation. Dee had just been so thrilled to be asked that her cynical side decided to take a hike for once, leaving her open to bad decisions.

And goddammit, was this one of the worst of her life. Not only would she forever and always be the aluminum monster, but now she was also the girl who got stood up at prom. The whole school was probably laughing at her right now inside the gym. Images of Eric telling everyone within earshot about how he’d screwed her over kept replaying inside Dee’s mind so much so that she covered her face with a stuffed unicorn to muffle the scream building in her throat. But before that angst could pour from her mouth, there was a knock at the door. She stopped short of asking who it was, deciding quickly that it didn’t matter. Whoever the fuck was out there could get lost. Two more knocks came and went, and Dee ignored them both. Finally on the third knock annoyance got the better of her and she yelled, “Go away!”

“Uh, Dee. It’s me.”

Her stomach dropped. “Oh shit,” she mumbled into the unicorn’s fake fur before tossing it aside. Charlie was the last person Dee wanted to see. Not after talking his ear off about prom even after she could tell he’d gotten sick of it, and then convincing him to go not as her date, but as her support system. She’d totally manipulated him to get what she wanted. And here he was … still being her friend. Dee steeled herself against the world by caring as little as possible. Navigating high school was so much easier when you didn’t give a shit about anyone. But Charlie … unfortunately she gave a shit about him. And it caused a rare emotion to grow hot insider her chest. Guilt.

“Uh, just a second,” Dee replied, shoving more stuffed animals aside before standing. Using her palms, she began smoothing the wrinkles from her pink dress, but stopped after realizing how pointless it was. What did it matter if she looked all rumpled? In her current emotional state, burning the dress seemed like a more reasonable option.

When she opened the door, Charlie was standing on the other side, hands shoved in his pockets, looking sharp in a suit jacket and tie. Her heart twisted. He’d actually dressed up for the occasion.

“Hey,” Charlie said. A few seconds passed where they stared at each other, neither knowing how to bring up the elephant in the room.

The aluminum elephant.

“Soooo I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I’m sure the whole school’s heard by now that the aluminum monster got stood up at prom. I’m assuming you’ve come to offer your condolences?” Dee’s attempt to make light of her miserable circumstances failed when her voice broke just a little near the end. Charlie frowned, and she cleared her throat to cover her emotional hiccup. “But _you_ didn’t stand me up, so why don’t we move prom into my bedroom. We’re both dressed for it.” She let him inside and closed the door, then leaning against it she asked, “How did you find out?”

“When Dennis punched your date.”

Dee’s eyes grew wide. “He did uh, what now?”

“Guess he overheard Eric bragging about standing you up.”

Dee snorted and then laughed, which felt strange after all the crying she’d done. “You’re joking, right?”

Charlie shook his head. “I saw it.”

“Are you sure it was him? I mean I whole heartily endorse everyone punching that dickbag from now until the end of time. But Dennis? Are you sure?”

“He drove me here. Said he thought you might need a friend right now after what happened.”

“What? Is he with you?” she asked, whirling to stare at the door as if her twin might burst through and surprise her with a visit too. Dee was losing her mind. There was no way Charlie was talking about the same Dennis she’d grown up with.

“Nah, he left with Mac.” Charlie shoved a pile of stuffed animals off the bed and sat down; Dee followed suite, moving in next to him. “Dennis was booted from prom for what he did to Eric, so I think him and Mac have plans to go get wasted somewhere else.”

Dee smirked. “What, so he’s Mac now? You finally gave in?”

Charlie raised his palms in surrender. “Dennis was calling him that on the way over. Guess it finally stuck. And to be honest, I think ...” Pausing abruptly, he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What? What’re you thinking?” Dee pressed.

“Oh, just how Dennis and Mac seem to be better friends than I thought. And how we’re also friends. Good friends.” Hesitantly, Charlie’s eyes darted to her face and then to her hand. In one quick motion his fingers threaded through hers in what was clearly supposed to be a tender moment that kind of fell flat when Dee scoffed like it was a joke.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like your holding my hand.”

“Well, yeah. Can’t I do that without getting the third degree from you?”

“But why?”

“Because I thought- I don’t know- it’s what you do when- look, I’m not the greatest at this stuff. I guess I just wanted to show you that … I’m here for you. Always. You’re my best friend, Dee.”

Surprised, she fought the urge to pull away like her instincts were screaming for her to do. This was Charlie. Dee didn’t have to be so guarded around him. And friends could hold hands. Best friends. “Okay,” she replied.

“I would say I’m sorry about what happened to you,” he continued, staring down at the threadbare knees of his cord pants. “But I know you hate it when people feel sorry for you. And I don’t feel sorry you. Actually I’m more annoyed than anything else. Just wish you hadn’t been so stupid to go with Eric in the first place. Come on, you’re so much better than him.”

Another person might have gotten upset at Charlie for his insult, but Dee just snickered. This was exactly what she needed to hear and of course Charlie- being her closest friend- knew that. “Yeah, I was pretty fucking dumb. We should’ve just gone together. But then again, you would’ve hated going to prom.”

Charlie looked back up at her, his gaze focused. Dee wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look so determined before. Usually there was a fog behind his eyes. “Well, yeah. Prom sucks. But if you wanted to go, I would’ve gone with you. That’s what friends do. And actually I did go even though I wasn't your date.”

“You’re right. I totally got you to do something you didn’t want to do. So who’s the dumb one now?”

Charlie faked being upset by furrowing his brow, and then they both laughed. “Guess we’re just a couple of idiots who were made for each other.”

“So what do you want to do now, idiot friend? My fuck up has left us both dressed up with nowhere to go. I suppose we could just be two extra fancy video game players.” Dee gestured to the _Super Nintendo_.

“I have a better idea,” Charlie replied, releasing her hand and springing from the bed.

Dee let out an exaggerated sigh when he headed for the CD tower. “Not another musical, Charlie. I’m not even sure I have any left. I’ve given you all the good ones.”

“Not a typical musical,” he said over his shoulder and then went back to examining her CDs. Dee shook her head in disbelief when he came back holding _The Bodyguard_ soundtrack. “They were playing it at prom. Thought maybe you’d like a reenactment. You did say you wanted to bring prom into your room.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Well, I’m not,” he said, turning back around and inserting the disc into Dee’s player.

When Whitney’s voice drifted from the speakers seconds later singing, “If IIII shoooould staaay…” Dee narrowed her eyes at Charlie, who returned to the bed and offered his hand.

“Wanna dance?”

He sounded so ridiculous. _This_ was so ridiculous. “No,” she stated flatly.

“Well, if you don’t wanna dance, then I’ll just have ask one of your friends here.” Charlie lifted a large stuffed unicorn from the floor. “So Dee’s uh, being a little bitch and won’t dance with me,” he told it, while still staring pointedly in her direction. “But you’re not, so will you dance with me, unicorn friend of Dee’s?” He leaned in as if he were listening for an answer, and Dee covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Hmm, your friend here just told me to go fuck myself. Seems like you’ve been a bad influence on her.” The unicorn was dropped and Charlie stood in front of Dee again. “Please,” was all he said, but this time it was enough.

She let him guide her into a standing position and after a few false starts of trying to figure out just exactly where their hands were supposed to go, Dee and Charlie began moving along to the music. Although the stuffed animals on the floor proved to be a nuisance and after stumbling a few times, Dee forced them out of the way with some kicks.

About midway through the song, she and Charlie finally fell into a slow swaying motion that wasn’t quite dancing, but kept them moving until the end of Whitney’s singing. When Charlie smiled timidly and began inching away, probably to take the CD out, she pulled him back in and suggested, “Let the next one play. One more dance?”

_Ugh, I sound so pathetic._

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, coming in close again. “And by the way, I like the dress. Pink looks good on you.”

“Thanks, Charlie. You don’t look so bad yourself, either.”

And as they began swaying again, Dee secretly wished she could rest her head on Charlie’s shoulder like they did in the movie. Of course, the back brace made that impossible. But not in her mind. In there, Dee could dream that Charlie was the Kevin Costner to her Whitney Houston.

Now _that_ was a ridiculous thought. But Dee didn’t give a shit. In her imagination she could be whoever. And at that moment, a distressed singer/actress and the bodyguard coming to her rescue didn’t seem so far-fetched.

* * *

 

I made [a thing](http://pixiestickers.tumblr.com/post/173578440698/chardee-high-school-au-moodboard-my-back-brace)

Also you should check out WeirdItalianPlumber's version of Charlie and Dee on [Prom Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14358690).


	8. Chapter 8

Their lessons were winding down. Charlie knew time was running out for him to make a choice. He wasn’t sure what that choice was, only that there was an uneasiness in his gut about some decision he had to make. Karate dancing was soon. Dee told him he’d be ready by then. She was probably right. But for some strange reason he didn’t want her to be. Thoughts and feelings that had been shoved way down deep into a mind box he labeled- things that make me feel bad, were starting to break free. All his memories with Dee from high school were good ones. But now he was remembering other ones. Ones that were good at the time, but had turned sour after graduation. A graduation that only happened, because she’d helped him. Charlie had a high school degree and Dee was the reason. Now he could read most words, and again she was the reason.

Dee was the reason.

That phrase stuck with him like a puzzle he needed to piece together. Too bad he’d never been good at puzzles. It took him two weeks, but eventually those four words made sense. And the answer forced that uneasiness in his gut out into a toilet at Paddy’s, which made Frank shout from the next stall, “Whoa! Are you sick?” He peeked through his glory hole, which despite his best efforts hadn’t produced any secret hookups. Charlie had come in there to tell Frank the hole had to go. Dennis had caught Rickety Cricket using it to solicit customers. “That was a lot of puke,” Frank said.

“Yeah, I think I got the flu or something,” Charlie lied after wiping his mouth on his sleeve. If Frank thought he was sick it was better to play along than him figuring out the truth.

“Shit! The flu? You need to get that outta here. I’m old. I can’t be getting that junk.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Charlie agreed.

Dennis agreed too. “There’s no way you’re ruining my show by getting your sick on me. Not with so much at stake. Now off with you!”

Charlie didn’t think there was much at stake for Dennis. Just his weird karate dancing with Mac that was probably going to flop. And after the gut punch realization of what had been knocking around in his brain for the last two months, Charlie thought he definitely had more at stake than Dennis. Way more. He didn’t say that though. Just slunk off home with his pretend flu, avoiding Dee as he went. Once he reached his and Frank’s apartment, Charlie promptly flopped onto their shared bed and stared up at the water stained ceiling, his eyes following a crack that traveled from one rotted brown splotch to another. His mind ran a million miles a minute. He really was sick. Not in a germy or virus way. An emotional sickness. He was excited and nervous. He was seeing clearly, but also doubtful. He was Charlie and she was Dee. They were like the crack running through the decaying areas of his ceiling. Two people moving from one shitty thing to another, but both on the same path. Together. They used to be best friends. Even more than that. Only the word wasn’t coming to him. It had been shoved way down into that box and wouldn’t come out with all the other memories. Shoved there for a reason. So the hurt would stop after Dee left for college.

An hour or so later when the door opened, Charlie didn’t even bother looking away from the ceiling. He just kept thinking. And pretending, of course. Frank thought he was sick. Better act it by staying in bed. But when a very un-Frank voice greeted him, Charlie jerked his head to the foot of the bed. “Dee?”

“Heard you were sick, so I brought over some stuff to help. Wouldn’t want you still feeling bad by Saturday.”

“Saturday?”

Dee snorted and placed down a bag onto the table near the window. Charlie had a faint feeling of shame over how messy it was when she scooted several items out of the way- mostly rotting food. “Um, duh. It’s the big day,” she said, while pulling out a variety of bottles from her bag and lining them up for him to see. “The one we’ve been working up to.”

“And that would be?”

Dee let out a high-pitched flabbergasted noise before answering, “Karate dancing! Your date with the waitress. C’mon, Charlie. What else have all those reading lessons been for?”

She poured some pink liquid into a tiny cup, spilling some when Charlie sat up and blurted, “What?! I didn’t set up a date with the waitress.”

“No, but I did.” Dee offered him the cup of what looked like soupy bubblegum. “For your stomach,” she explained after Charlie gave her a skeptical look. When he still acted suspicious, she added, “Really? The guy who eats cat food is worried about ingesting pepto bismol?”

The same sick feeling he had back at Paddy’s swished in his stomach and even though Charlie didn’t like the look of it, he downed the pink goo anyway. “I didn’t tell you to get me a date with her,” he said once the thick drink had coated his throat

Dee took the cup back and started messing with her bottles again. “What’s the big deal? I did it as a favor. One less thing for you to do. And she agreed, so long as I pay her tab at Paddy’s for a month. Apparently she’s off the wagon again. Figured that would get her to hang around the bar too. She’d be forced to for at least a month if she wants her free drinks. So even if you don’t win her over at Dennis and Mac’s show, you’ll at least get more chances to charm her with your new reading ability. The one you got courtesy of me. You’re welcome.” Dee handed him a bottle of something, but Charlie nudged it away. “It’s just water. You need to keep hydrated.” She held it back out for him and he tossed it on the bed.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being so pushy?”

“Pushy? I’m just doing what you wanted from the start. Remember?” She cleared her throat and then began imitating Charlie. “Hey Dee, teach me to read, so I can bang the waitress.” Even if it was an accurate portrayal, Charlie didn’t like the way she’d exaggerated the scratchiness of his voice. “I think the real question is, why are you fighting me so much?”

“No, that’s not it. You’re being different. More helpful than usual. Like, I know you. You’ll always do as little as possible.”

Dee scoffed. “Gee thanks. Glad to see that all this helping you read was _as little as possible_.”

“See, that’s what I mean. This whole thing. It’s been … different.” Charlie swung his legs over to the side of the bed where Dee stood. “You don’t usually help me like this. The lessons, they started out normal, but you’ve been going out of your way lately. Something’s up.”

The room grew quiet. A cat meowed somewhere nearby followed by a few honks from the outside traffic. Charlie’s flash of insight into Dee had made her speechless. But just for a moment. “Look, the only thing that’s up is your dick. That is, it’ll be up when you bang the waitress.” As soon as the words left her mouth Dee grimaced and groaned, “Ugh, that was-”

“As shitty as every joke you’ve ever told at open mic?” Charlie offered and then started booing like the audience usually did. Dee shoved him in the shoulder to get him to stop and then sunk down onto the bed. With her elbows digging into her thighs, she shoved her face into her hands. Charlie waited a few seconds before pushing the subject again she’d been sidestepping with her joke. “Sooo ... what’s going on?” he asked, doing his best to sound normal and relaxed and not at all like the suspicious fucker he was.

“It’s complicated,” Dee mumbled through her fingers. “And maybe I should’ve been honest instead of just trying to shove the waitress your way. But it didn’t seem like a problem. I assumed you’d be all for it.” Her back straightened as she sat up to look at Charlie with a raised eyebrow. “Talk about something being up. You’re not being yourself either.”

Charlie shrugged, hoping she hadn't heard his nervous gulp. “You first.”

“Fine.” Dee stood and wandered over to the window, looking out it she said, “About three weeks ago I had a dream.”

“Oh, was it the one where you go to school naked and didn’t study for a test? Or the one where-”

“No,” she interrupted, letting out an annoyed sigh that told Charlie to shut up. “This was a different kind of dream. You and me, we were- well, the dream isn’t important- it’s what my therapist said about it that freaked me out.” Dee crossed her arms, before facing Charlie again. “She told me I was in love with you, which is like completely ridiculous, right? She’s a total quack and I’m never going back there again. But that bitch, she got in my head, you know, so I figured the only way to fight this was to make sure you actually did get with the waitress. If you’re with someone else then I can go back to normal and stop thinking weird things that make me want to bleach my brain.”

“Being with me makes you want to bleach your brain?” Charlie hadn’t meant to sound so upset, but he couldn’t help it. The words stung. Especially after an afternoon spent thinking about her.

Dee laughed and Charlie thought it sounded nervous. “Well, I mean yeah, don’t you feel the same way? Not that you would ever think about me like-”

“No.” Charlie stood, the uneasiness in his stomach now replaced by a sudden rush of courage mixed with resentment. “No,” he repeated, as if needing to convince himself to say the reckless thing that wanted to burst forth. “And you know why?” Dee shook her head, looking confused and ready to bolt. His words felt like paste. The kind he used to eat as a kid that glued his mouth shut. He couldn’t speak. So he showed her instead. Charlie brought his hands up to either side of Dee’s face and quickly guided her in for a kiss. Instantly she pulled away.

“What the fuck, Charlie? Stop screwing around. That was- you threw up. I’m gonna get sick now.” She wiped the remains of their kiss away with the back of her hand.

“I’m not screwing around. I threw up because I realized something. I remembered something.” He drew close again, which caused Dee to stumbled backwards and latch onto the table for support. Some of her bottles fell to the floor. “We kissed before. After graduation. But you went away and we never dealt with it. And now I remember and it hurts. It’s why I forgot in the first place and got obsessed with the waitress. I couldn’t stand the pain.” He paused, swallowed, then admitted the revelation he’d come to back in the restroom at Paddy’s. Only this time he didn’t puke. “I’m in love with you, Dee.”

“Stop it, Charlie. That kiss after graduation was just experimenting. We both knew that going in.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it was. But it did something. You …” Charlie made a fist and then slowly opened it, spreading his fingers wide, “You bloomed my flower.”

“Ugh, don’t say that. You sound weird. And gross.” Dee edged further away until her back hit the wall and she made a little surprised noise.

“So what. I _am_ weird. And so are you. Aluminum monster and dirtgrub. You were my best friend. My first love.”

Dee made a pained expression. No longer combative, she looked almost sad. Charlie was ready to take advantage of that break in her defenses and make his case bird lawyer style. There were so many forgotten moments between them that he could bring up, one’s that he’d spent years hiding from. Not anymore. Charlie felt free. He felt … Dee’s mouth against his? _Wait what?_ But the experience was over before he could process it.

“I’m sorry,” Dee whispered after moving her lips away from his. “But I can’t do this again.” She suddenly jerked away and went running towards the door, but stumbled when they both saw Frank standing in the entryway. “Oh goddammit!” she shouted. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” he answered, his expression a mixture of shock and amusement.

Dee groaned loudly, but didn’t stick around to answer any of the questions Charlie could see Frank wanted to ask. Without looking back, she shoved past him and out the door.

“I came to get my stuff,” Frank explained, glancing out into the hallway before staring back at Charlie. “I was gonna crash at Dee's till you got better, but she’ll probably get sick now too, on account of all the face sucking with you.” He chuckled and Charlie moaned while dragging his hands down his face.

“Shut up, Frank,” he snapped and raced after Dee, intent catching up with her before she got outside.


	9. Chapter 9

Charlie ran a hand through his hair. Nervously. Dee could tell. If two years of friendship had taught her anything it was that Charlie was prone to freak-outs and those usually had nervous tics leading up to the eventual anxiety attack. A hand through the hair was the one she always picked up on though, because despite many things holding him back in life, Charlie did have one thing going for him- a great head of hair. And right now he was holding his graduation cap in one hand, while threading the fingers of his other through thick strands of brown. He was talking with the school’s guidance counselor, which made Dee experience her own anxiety. Maybe the school had finally discovered their deception. _Shit!_ Were they both caught? If so, it seemed like a pretty dramatic stunt to wait until graduation day to call them out for their cheating.

Dee wanted to talk with Charlie and find out, but first she needed to end her one sided conversation with Matthew Mara who kept telling her they should keep in touch. Blah blah blah. _Will this guy just shut up already?_

“So what do you say?”

“Hmm?” Dee looked back at Matthew. _Say? What do I say?_ “I say ... sure.” This was just about staying in contact, right? She totally wouldn’t, but lying would get him away faster. Well, as fast as he could go in those leg braces of his.

It must’ve been the right thing to say. He certainly seemed happy. Maybe a little too happy. “You know, I always knew we had a connection back in physical therapy! And I said to myself, Matthew, if you don’t ask Dee out now, you’ll never find the courage.”

 _Oh, goddammit!_ Naturally, when a guy finally liked her it had to be this loser.

Dee tried to suppress her gag reflex, but failed when Matthew exclaimed, “So great! It’s a date. What day works for you?”

Thankfully, Dennis breezed by a moment later, offering Dee’s upchuck reflexes a distraction by saying, “Hey, Cricket. How do you feel about some tea?” Having had the unfortunate experience of seeing the polaroids of Dennis and Mac tea-bagging Matthew, she knew the implications of her brother’s carefully chosen words. But the victim- who’d been passed out at the time- didn't.

“N-no thank you,” Mathew stuttered, visibly surprised by Dennis throwing his arm around his shoulders like they were friends. They most definitely were not.

“Yeah, Cricket. Tea sounds good right about now,” Mac added, joining in on the joke.

Dee took Matthew's temporary confusion as an opportunity to sneak away. But not stealthily enough apparently, because he yelled, “So I’ll call you? Set up a time?”

“A time for some tea?” Dennis asked, giving him a noogie.

“Um, okay.” Dee forced a smile before bolting to rescue Charlie (and herself). “I’m sorry, but can I borrow him for a moment?” she asked the guidance counselor after running up beside Charlie and linking arms with him. Not waiting for a response, Dee yanked her friend away and they disappeared into the crowd of recent graduates and their families.

“Thanks,” he said, once she came to a stop near the back of the school where they usually shared their thermos of whiskey. “That woman just kept going on and on and on. I was about to have a panic attack.”

“I could tell. Is everything okay? We’re not in trouble are we?”

Charlie shook his head. “No, she just wanted to congratulate me on how far I’ve come since almost getting held back sophomore year. Guess she should be thanking you, not me.” He winked, but Dee ignored his joke, too keyed up to laugh.

“Good,” Dee said. “That means we can focus on my problem.”

“Your problem?”

“I just agreed to a date with Matthew Mara,” she admitted, exhibiting a grimace so wide her face muscles ached.

Charlie’s eyebrows drew together. “Mattheeeeew?” He stretched out the name, clearly confused over who this person was, and Dee sighed exasperatedly. A few more seconds of contemplation passed, but eventually he got it. “Ooohhh, you mean, Rickety Cricket.”

“Come on. Don’t call him that. I know he’s the worst, but ...” Dee wasn’t the greatest at following a code of ethics, yet somewhere deep inside there was a voice of reason that whispered- _if you don’t want to be called aluminum monster, then don’t call him Rickety Cricket._

Charlie put his cap back on his head. “Okay, fine. But I don’t really see a problem here.”

Dee punched his shoulder just hard enough to hurt. “Of course there’s a problem. I told you there was.”

Charlie rubbed the spot where Dee’s fist had landed. “Uh no, not really. Because the answer is easy. Just don’t go. Ignore his calls. You’re leaving for your grandpa's in a few days anyway.”

“I can’t do that to him.”

This made Charlie laugh and Dee glowered down at him. “What? It’s just Rickety Cricket,” he defended himself and the ease in which he said this ate at Dee.

“Yeah, and I’m just the _aluminum monster_ and you’re just _dirtgrub_. And maybe you remember a little thing called Junior Prom where I was stood up specifically, because I am that monster.” Dee still had another two years to go wearing her dumb cage and the fact she was going away to college with the stigma of _aluminum monster_ still hanging hang over her head, was depressing as hell.

“First off, you aren’t that monster, so stop saying that. And secondly, you don’t want to date him, so how is lying any better? Just getting his hopes up to let him down? His fall will be that much harder if you lead him on.”

Dee opened her mouth to argue, but clamped it shut. What Charlie said actually made sense. It was one of his rare bouts of deep insight that always stunned her. Not that she thought he was dumb or anything, just that he was selective in how he chose to use his brain. If something was important enough, he’d make the effort and sometimes even excelled at whatever it was. “You’re right,” she admitted, “But I can’t just ignore him. It seems too cruel.”

Charlie frowned. Not in an upset way; more like he was thinking hard, and after a few seconds he shot his index finger into the air, yelling, “Aha!”

“Aha what?”

“I think I might have a solution to your problem.”

 

~***~

 

Half a date with Matthew Mara was better than a whole date, but not better than no date at all. Still, having Charlie tag along made it tolerable. And two years of drama class meant she could totally nail her role of clueless dummy when saying, “Ooooh, by date I thought you meant going out as friends. That’s why I invited another friend.”

Matthew looked suspiciously at Dee and Charlie standing in front of the movie theater they’d agreed to meet at. He’d wanted to see a romantic comedy, but she insisted on the live-action _Flintstones_ (per Charlie’s suggestion). Despite appearing very disappointed, Matthew gave in to the idea of the three of them going on a “friend date” but only stayed for half the film. Half because Dee and Charlie made sure they were as obnoxious as possible- throwing popcorn, yelling back at the screen, getting shushed by other movie-goers- all in an effort to make their third wheel feel extremely uncomfortable. A miserable Matthew was for his own good. Finding Dee too annoying to date would make him lose interest, and sure enough, somewhere between the _Yabba-dabba-doos_ and _Wilmas!_ Matthew faked a sickness, reducing their trio to a duo.

“I can’t believe your idea worked!” Dee exclaimed, causing an overweight woman with graying hair to twist in her seat and press a finger to her lips, giving the universal sign for _be quiet_. She’d done this a few times already. “Bitch,” Dee muttered under her breath.

“Well, if you stick around me long enough, you’re bound to pick up some annoying habits. Guess Mara couldn’t take it,” Charlie said, intentionally raising his voice for the woman’s benefit.

When she turned around again and shushed Charlie, Dee wasn’t able to constrain herself. “Listen tubo, it’s a free country and he can say whatever the hell he wants. So why don’t you take that _Shhh!_ and shove it right up your fat ass.”

For a moment Dee wondered if she’d gone too far. If looks could kill, fatty was definitely trying to murder her with eyes of fire, and when she rose from her seat seconds later, Dee held her breath anticipating a fight. Could she take out an older woman? It didn’t seem right, and relief flooded her when the woman left the theater instead of escalating things. Charlie cheered loudly over their victory, but sadly it was short lived. A few minutes after the woman departed, she returned with management and the two of them were ushered outside.

“I never thought I’d get kicked out of the theater on my first date. Or that I’d have to spend half of it with Matthew Mara. How lame.” Dee kicked a discarded soda can down the sidewalk and mentally compared herself to it.

_Forgotten aluminum_

“This was your first date?” Charlie asked, surprised.

Dee snorted. “You’ve been my friend for two years and have seen how bad I am with guys. What makes you think I was any better at it when I was younger?”

Charlie shrugged and kicked the same can as Dee, starting a short game of kick the can between them. “Guess I never really thought about it,” he finally said after booting the soda out of sight. “But hey, we’re kinda on a date, right? A fake date, but who says we can’t make it a good one?”

Dee’s heart did a weird flip in her chest and she suddenly felt compelled to hide herself behind a veil of sarcasm. “And what is a good date to you? Going down some alley to get high? Bet the girls just love that.” He came to a stop near one and Dee scoffed. “I knew it.”

“No, it’s not that,” he defended, but paused when a sheepish grin grew across his face. “Well, okay yeah, maybe that. But it’s what we like to do and shouldn’t a date be filled with fun things? If you’d finished your date with Rickety- I uh, mean Matthew- you would’ve done the normal boring date stuff. And maybe some of that’s good, but some of it isn’t. So I say, mash it all together. Take the good parts of a normal date and mix it with what we like best. What’d ya say?” Charlie gestured his head towards the alley and revealed just enough of a plastic bag from his pocket for her to see the tip of a joint.

Dee rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll continue on this fake date if it gets me free pot.”

“Who says it’s free?”

She narrowed his gaze. “I thought this was a date? Doesn’t the guy pay?”

“Dee, that is very sexist of you and I am extremely disappointed.” Charlie’s expression was serious, but he couldn't hold it for long. When he broke into a smile seconds later, their laughter overlapped each other’s in a cadence of happiness that only seemed to happen when they were together. “After you,” Charlie said, sweeping his arm wide for her to enter the alley-way first.

“Yeah, whatever, dickhole,” Dee teased and walked between the two buildings with Charlie close behind.

 

~***~

 

One smoked joint and visit to a hot dog vendor later, Dee and Charlie found themselves down at the docks. Charlie had swiped a few hot dog buns when the seller wasn’t looking and they were now tearing off pieces of them to feed the seagulls. Dee thought it was hilarious that he’d managed to fit so many buns inside his pants. “How often do you steal, because you seem like an expert at this?”

Charlie looked smugly up at her from under his bushy eyebrows and suddenly burst out singing, “You know nothing of my life. All I did was steal some bread.”

Dee laughed at his _Les Miserables_ reference, but then grew somber. “It’s too bad you couldn’t try out for _Jean Val Jean_ and had to play one of the random revolutionaries who dies at the barricade.”

“Welp, you can’t play the big parts if you can’t read the script.” Charlie was cavalier about this, but Dee didn’t buy it. She knew how badly he wanted to be involved in musicals.

“I’m not sure knowing how to read helps much,” she replied, attempting to assuage his disappointment. “I mean I got you A’s on all your English papers and still I was cast as _Old Crone_ in _Les Mis_. Really it’s all a popularity contest. They’d never give me a lead part, not with my back brace.” Distracted, Dee tore off a piece of bun so large that several seagulls went after her hurled chunk. Charlie sprang into action, yanking her to safety, but banged his chin against her brace in the process. “Whoops, sorry.” She frowned apologetically.

Charlie winced and rubbed his chin. “You know, I think our problem has an easy fix.”

“Our seagull problem?”

“No. The one about us never getting lead roles.”

Dee sent him a sideways glance. “What’s the point? School’s over.”

“Screw school. We’ll go it alone. I’ll compose a musical specifically about us and then there will be no other option, but to cast ourselves in the starring roles.”

“Like the ballad of dirtgrub and aluminum monster,” Dee mentioned, smirking over the memory of when he’d tried to comfort her before and they’d come up with their pretend musical. He was essentially doing the same now. That was Charlie. Always trying to turn a shitty situation into something bearable.

“Yeah, kinda like that. You could write the script, giving yourself all the best lines, and I’ll write the music.”

It wasn’t rooted in reality. Neither had the ability to actually pull off a musical, but for a long while afterward, Dee and Charlie crafted a song-filled story about themselves that unlike their real lives, was guaranteed a happy ending with both of them reaching their goals. And in a moment of impulsiveness while describing his preferred closing number for their show, Charlie threw up the pieces of bread in his hands. They rained back down in a flurry of carbohydrates and this time it was Dee who moved them out of the way before the seagulls could attack. “Sorry. Guess I got a little too excited,” he apologized, but then hesitated, while appearing to look over her shoulder.

“What?” Dee asked, glancing behind her.

“You got, uh bread.”

“I got bread?” She giggled and Charlie shook his head in embarrassment.

“No, I uh, your hair. There’s bread in your hair.” He placed his fingers through her strands and as he pulled downward, Dee wasn’t sure if the sudden electricity moving between them was a shared experience. She looked at him for some acknowledgement, and his tug on her hair stopped. A moment passed as their eyes met and they both nervously laughed, the electric feeling buzzing all around them. But when a sudden gust loosened the bread completely, Charlie no longer had a reason for his hand to be in her hair and let it drop. The electricity fizzled, replaced with an awkward feeling that Dee tried to escape by absently gazing down at the torn bun piece. A seagull swiftly picked it up and flew away.

Glancing back at Charlie, she saw he was now staring at the Delaware River. “Well, it’s getting late, maybe I should take you home,” he said, sounding faraway.

“Um, okay,” Dee replied. Unable to let their moment from before go, she grasped Charlie’s hand, forcing him to look her way again. “I had a great time tonight. Thanks for a decent first date.”

“Yeah, I had fun too.” Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. That great hair. Dee had a sudden urge to touch it. But that would be weird, wouldn't it? Still, something compelled her to lean in, and by the time her face was near enough to his to realize what was happening, she found herself lacking the willpower to stop it. A pair of soft lips met and then retreated, causing a stunned silence to spread between them until Charlie broke it by stuttering, “W-why? W-what? Huh?” Dee chuckled, which made Charlie even more confused. “Was that a joke?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, I don't think so. We _are_ on a date, so I thought it would be okay. Besides I can’t go away to college without ever having kissed anyone. Don’t you want to be my first?” It was the lamest excuse ever, but better than admitting the truth she suspected lurked in the deepest depths of her heart.

“Oh, so you’re using me?” He pursed his lips and she could see hurt darken his eyes.

“But you could use me too. What’s the harm? We’re best friends, and could totally come away from this without getting hurt.” Why was she pushing this so much? Did she really want to make out with Charlie Kelly?

_Yes. Yes, I do!_

Charlie appeared conflicted, but only for a moment. “Why the hell am I even questioning this?” He laughed. “If you’re game, then so am I.”

 

~***~

 

That night Dee not only got her first kiss, but also several hickeys, and as far as Charlie’s hair was concerned, that shit was a mess by the time they’d finished making out in her bedroom. She’d threaded her fingers through it so many times that Charlie complained.

When he crept out of her room sometime around midnight, Dee promised to call before she left for Pop-Pop's. But just like with Matthew, she didn’t mean it. Not for the same reason though. The exact opposite really. Because Dee realized something. Kissing Charlie was more than just two friends experimenting. It was a deeply emotional experience that forced her to finally process what had been an ignored whisper for months. She was falling for him, which was a problem since there was no way they could be together. Her rationalization for this was both selfish and selfless, and she hated herself over it, but not enough to admit her feelings for Charlie out loud.

No, Dee could never do that. She’d have to hurt her best friend, and just like with Matthew, it would be for his own good. And hers too.


	10. Chapter 10

Dee woke up and the first thing she did was check her phone. Unlike the last two days, there were no messages from Charlie and she wondered if maybe he’d finally given up. But even if she won this battle, there was still the issue of the whole gang knowing about her kiss with him thanks to Frank and his big fat mouth. Dee had done her best to avoid the four of them, which proved difficult considering they were her co-workers. Several times she’d had a run in with a mocking Mac or a depressed Charlie. The first she wanted to punch and the latter she wanted to fix. But since neither of these were viable options, Dee settled for telling Mac to fuck off, and switching the subject to work whenever Charlie tried to mention what happened between them. That’s how badly she wanted this life mistake to go away; Dee was willingly talking about her goddamn job.

And the worst part was knowing all this could’ve been avoided if she’d just stopped it in time. The sex dream had been a warning, and even if it had freaked her out, she’d eventually labeled it as a minor instance of weakness that could easily be snuffed out. See, that was the problem when you hid behind a lie. Eventually you lied enough that it became your truth.

_Ugh, am I actually quoting my therapist right now? What kind of ass backwards upside down world is this?_

For years, Dee convinced herself that the emotions she felt for Charlie were the product of two lonely kids commiserating over their shared high school trauma. It wasn’t real love, just an unhealthy codependent relationship. When old flickers of those feelings for Charlie bubbled to the surface, she always shoved them down until that suppression slowly became amnesia. After a while, Dee and Charlie were able to ease into their roles within the gang without their past making things awkward. Life pushed them into their twenties and then their thirties and Dee finally stopped thinking about that night in her bedroom with Charlie.

So why oh why was she back there now? It was all so similar to the last time too. Charlie calling, and her ignoring him. Except escaping to Pop-Pop’s for the summer wasn’t an option anymore. Her apartment was currently the only shelter away from her self-inflicted drama.

And all Dee wanted to do was spend the day continuing to hide from her Charlie problem, but as luck would have it, dance karate, karate dancing, Mac and Dennis prancing around like fucking dickwads- whatever the hell it was called- took place that evening, which according to her phone was sooner than she liked. It seemed that drinking your problems away until the wee hours of the morning, made the evening come far too soon. Yet, despite being aware of the time, Dee still snuggled down under her comforter, pretending it was possible to stay there forever … until her phone indicated she had a text.

_Please, don’t be Charlie. Please, don’t be Charlie._

It wasn’t, but that didn’t mean she replied right away. Dee wanted to ignore the message from Dennis for as long as possible. Unfortunately, as long as possible was only ten minutes when your brother kept annoying the shit out of you by blowing up your phone.

 _Fuuuck you!!_ she texted back and didn’t even bother reading his many replies. Dee simply pulled her reluctant ass out of bed, got ready in a hurry, and left for Paddy’s. She entered through the alleyway entrance, making sure to avoid eye contact with the bodies she passed, and rushed straight to the office.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dennis asked, wearing a black, full body leotard that clung to his skin so tightly, Dee could see his bulge.

“Ahhh just what every sister wants to see,” she said airily, before taking a sharp turn into biting sarcasm, “the outline of her brother’s dick.”

“Hey! It’s what I have to wear. It lets me move with ease.” His arms swooped around in wide circular motions before he surprised Dee by kicking near her head. She responded with an overstated eye-roll that Dennis didn’t seem bothered by. Nothing she did ever got to him.

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t do this yourself,” Dee complained, setting her purse on the desk and pulling out the makeup bag from inside. “You’ve always been better at contouring than me.”

“I'm playing the dark to contrast Mac’s light. I need a dramatic whorish look like yours.”

Dee threw a makeup sponge at him and it bounced right off. Why hadn’t she chucked something harder? “Better be nice to me or I'll make you look like the fucking clown from _It_. Would that be dark enough for you?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. Mac has been working hard on this. If you screw up his show, he’ll never let you forget. And you know how often you screw things up.”

“How often _I_ screw things up,” Dee replied, indignant. “I’m not the one-” she threw her hands up, then began violently pulling items out from the bag. “I never screwed up anything! It didn’t mean anything!” she shouted, a sudden burst of anger overwhelming her. Out went the concealer. Out went the eye shadow. Out went the blush, smashing so hard on the desk that it burst open and broke into tiny pink pieces all over a stack of papers.

“Whoa there, sis. Are you sure this isn’t about something else?” Dennis asked, steadying Dee’s hand in his to keep her from destroying yet another makeup item. “You seem a little too agitated over a casual insult that honestly wasn't even my best work. Tier three at most. Right under any comment referencing you as a bird. Mac always likes those. Honestly it’s the only reason I still say them.”

Something about the gentle way he teased, reminded Dee that her brother could at times, not be a total asshole. Their relationship was a complicated toxic mess, but it was possible for him to show emotion that wasn’t negative towards her. He did have a softer, sentimental side. The time he punched out her date came to mind. Although, all these years later and he still wouldn’t admit to it.

“Look,” Dennis said, gently guiding Dee’s hand down and removing the eyeliner she was clutching. “I know everyone’s been hard on you, Mac especially- I’ll have a talk with him- but hear me out. Wouldn’t it be easier if you stopped ignoring Charlie and admitted you liked him? Sure, he’s dirty, but also charming in his weird little hobbit way. And for whatever reason, he’s crazy about you. So, why not get over your inhibitions and for the sake of everyone, do what I’ve known you wanted to do since high school. Date him. Bang him. Whatever. Just get those emotions out so they can breathe.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “See how good it feels to finally be free.”

Dee’s anger sparked again. “Excuse me? If anyone needs to get over their inhibitions, it’s you, Dennis Reynolds. You’re so worried about others knowing you’re bi, that you can’t admit you like Mac. You and him would’ve come out as a couple years ago if you were able to get your heads out of your asses and admit you’ve been flirting since high school.” She was crossing an invisible line that everyone had been tip-toeing around for years. But this whole Charlie problem had torn down any semblance of normalcy for her. If her brother was going to call her out for something he was guilty of, she would most definitely fight back.

Although, it didn’t seem Dennis was all that annoyed at her accusation. No, homophobic stuttering of- _um, for your information, I am NOT attracted to men and there is a video of me having a threesome with two women from last night that you can watch that proves my point!_

Instead, he just sighed wearily like an old man, and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he said after a minute of silence, his voice serious. “But I am very comfortable with my sexuality and have been in a relationship with Mac for years.”

He paused, giving her time to process his admission and didn’t appear phased when she called out, “Bullshit.”

“I thought you might say that,” Dennis continued. “But it’s true. We’re not exclusive. We’re both free to be with other people. We’re together in a way that works for us, and I keep the fact we’ve been dating since high school a secret for him. You know Mac, he’s closeted. All that religious brainwashing. Who knows if he’ll ever come out? I’m certainly not going to force him. And you know what, it’s not important that the world know about us. As long as he knows I love him then that’s all that matters. So, I would suggest that if _I_ am the one with the healthy relationship in this scenario, then you need to reevaluate your life choices, because I should never be anyone’s standard bearer of morality.”

Words were trying to form, but Dee couldn’t find any to express her emotions. She was happy for him. She was angry that she’d never figured it out. But mostly, she was shocked that Dennis thought he was the better person in this situation. “Eat my asshole,” she finally said. They weren’t exactly the words she’d originally been searching for, but they worked nonetheless. “I was trying to protect Charlie. We’re both messed up people, and the bullying would’ve only continued if we’d ended up together right after high school. Gotten worse even. And I’m not good for him. He’s more optimistic, more willing to help others and I just hate everyone.”

“Everyone, but Charlie.”

Dee glared at him.

Dennis shrugged and somehow managed to make it look condescending. “I wasn’t friends with Charlie in high school. I only tolerated him for Mac’s sake. But from what he told me, Charlie stopped huffing when he was with you. He had less meltdowns, and these past few months, we all knew something was up with him, but I’m the only one who guessed you two were back together. I pay attention. I know things. And you two were happy. Well, until recently when you decided to fuck it up and become a raging bitch.” Dennis sighed and this time it sounded petulant. “Okay, I’m done being your therapist. I have a show to do and need my makeup lady to focus on her job. Can you do that? Can you focus on me?” He was whining, which meant the sensitive portion of his brain must’ve over-exerted itself and short circuited.

“Fine,” Dee grumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Atta girl.” He handed her the mascara. “Now remember, I want to be a dramatic whore. A dramatic whore, Dee!”

She shook her head, wanting to give a snarky retort that he already was one, but instead went to work as a way to distract herself from everything Dennis had said, and the serious reality that maybe her idiot brother was right for once.

 

~***~

 

The theme was light and dark. That much was obvious. Black and white patterns everywhere. The whole thing looked like one big game of checkers. Charlie thought Mac had gone overboard, but he wasn’t about to tell him that. The guy was stressed. He kept snapping at everyone. Dennis was tightly wound too. Why was this karate dancing so important? Charlie didn’t give a shit. And for the first time since setting his eye on the waitress, he didn’t give a shit about her either. Funny how they’d gone to school together and he never noticed. It wasn’t until Dee tossed him to the curb that Charlie even knew she was alive. Now they were on a date, she was paying attention to him (well, mostly to the free alcohol in front of her) and Charlie just wanted to get away. He was hurt and no amount of fake affection- not even from the waitress- mattered.

“Oh my god, is that Frank dressed like a karate man?” she asked, already tanked.

“I think the correct word is sensei,” Charlie commented.

“But the side of his eyes are pulled back with tape. That’s awful.”

It was, but Charlie just glumly chugged his beer.

“Hey, why does Dennis always call me waitress? I’m not even a waitress anymore. Does he know my real name?” From her position beside him on a bar stool, the waitress began poking him with the sharp nail of her finger. “Huh, Charlie. Charlie. Charlie.” She leaned in closer and shouted, “Are you listening to me?” The stench of her alcohol breath wafted his way.

_Dear god can the show just start so she stops talking?_

Charlie massaged his temples as her droning continued. “Do any of you know my real name? You’re all jerks, because I have an awesome name. Soooo great. It’s-”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paddy’s Pub,” Frank’s voice boomed over the microphone. He was standing on the small stage Charlie had helped him construct over the last two days. “I am DJ Karate Chop, here to introduce you to-”

“No wait, wait, wait,” a voice from off stage yelled, and emerging from the shadows to wrestle the microphone away from Frank was Dee. “There’s been a change to tonight’s entertainment. I uh, know it’s not listed on your programs, but this was sort of a last minute addition.”

“What’re you doing Deandra?” Frank asked, trying to take the mic back, but Dee held it above her head.

“Oh, my god, Dee. You’re ruining everything!” Charlie heard Mac yell from somewhere nearby.

“No, that’s not true,” Dee insisted, still holding the mic out of range from Frank. “This is an improvement. Well, maybe not for the audience, but for me at least.”

“Booo,” a man in the crowd yelled and it sounded like Rickety Cricket. “Show us your tits.”

Dee ignored Cricket’s heckling. “Normally when I’m on a stage like this, I’m doing some sort of comedy routine, but I’ve decided to step outside of my comfort zone, because someone told me that I should stop hiding from my real feelings. So, here I am, ready to make a complete ass of myself by singing a song I just made up like ten minutes ago.”

“Oh my god. Thisss iss gonna be good,” the waitress slurred, almost falling from her stool. “Did she tell you she was gonna do this? What a mess.”

Charlie shushed her.

“First of all, rude! Sssecond of all- hey! Hey! Where are you going?”

Charlie didn’t answer, he just continued maneuvering through the small group of people, refusing to look back. His eyes were on Dee and whatever she was up to. And then suddenly she said his name, startling him to a stop. Their gazes locked. “This song is for you.” Dee timidly smiled, taking a moment to clear her throat, almost like she was choked up. “I know we made a deal that you would write one for me, but I think it’s my turn to show you- well, I’ll let the song tell our story. You might remember the title- The ballad of dirtgrub and aluminum monster.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this story was supposed to be mostly T rated fluff. As I went along, some angst from thrown in and now ... smut. I'm sorry. I don't usually write it, but for some reason as I got to the end of this story I thought Charlie and Dee deserved a M rated love scene. It's not much and if you feel like skipping, it doesn't mess with the plot. Just stop reading where Charlie thinks: Making up for lost time, and move to the next section of the story

“So, when am I going to hear _my_ song?” Dee asked after walking into her room and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Charlie wandered in after her and leaned against the doorframe. “Song? What song? I never heard about any song.”

Dee arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. “That’s the story you’re going with? Really? After what I just did for you?”

Charlie smirked. “Come on now, I wouldn’t do something like keep a song from the person who _loves_ and _cares deeply_ for me,” he taunted, poking fun at what she’d sung earlier to an astonished crowd who thought they were getting some karate dancing and instead had to listen to Dee sing slightly off-key about Charlie. Never did he imagine Dee would so fully embarrass herself for him, and for some reason he couldn’t stop himself from making her relive it. “The person who shared whiskey with me in detention and danced with me to Whitney Houston,” he continued teasing, kneeling on the ground and spreading her legs apart, “Who made up musicals with me,” he positioned himself between them, “and who made out with me in her bedroom.” Slowly, he guided her body back against the bed. They kissed, but it was brief. Dee pressed against his chest and gave a gentle push, easing him off.

“As nice as this is, you can’t distract me with kisses.”

Intent on proving her wrong, Charlie moved his lips to her throat, traveling downward until he came in contact with her shirt. Grasping a fistful of material, he pulled upward to reveal her stomach, but was forced to stop kissing near her belly button, when Dee yanked his head upward.

“Ow, my hair,” Charlie complained, rubbing the sore spot where she’d pulled.

“Nice try,” Dee said, wearing a smug expression. “But it’s still a no. Not until you give me what I want.”

“What’s the deal? Don’t we need to make up for lost time and shit, you know, when you were _lying to yourself about me_? That’s what you sang, right?”

“Yeah, but if we waited this long, I don’t think another five minutes will make a difference. Just humiliate yourself the way I did. I need us to be on equal footing if we’re gonna have sex.”

“Well, it’s just you. Hardly humiliating,” he said, sitting down beside her. “But even if I wanted to, I can’t sing it right now. The lyrics are at my mom’s and I don’t have it memorized.”

“Why is it at your mom’s? Were you staying with her?”

He stared at her hands, and took one in his. Just like before. When they were teens. “No, it was- well, it’s on a tape in a box under my bed. I recorded it after that night we made out in your room. I’d forgotten about it until recently. And when I remembered, I decided it should be the song. Your song. The other one I was working on, it was good, but wasn’t written from the heart. The old one was. It was my first song. Ever. You inspired me to write it.” Charlie finally looked away from their intertwined fingers and up at Dee, expecting her to be happy, but instead he was greeted with a frown. “Did I say something wrong?”

Dee cupped the side of his face. “No, it’s not you. It’s me. All me. I’m so sorry I hurt you and took all those happy moments away and made you forget them.”

“That’s okay," Charlie said. "I mean, it wasn’t okay at the time, but that’s the past. We have now and now seems pretty good, don’t you think?” The edges of her mouth pulled upward slightly and even though her eyes were still sad, there was a change in her mood. Enough that she pressed her lips against his. “So, is this- are we doing this now?” he asked into the kiss. “You’re not gonna demand I humiliate myself in another way?”

“Tell you what, let’s get that song tomorrow and then you can play it for me in front of the gang.”

“Okay, but you might want me to fast forward through the parts where I mention your ass.”

She seemed offended, saying his name while making a little annoyed sound, but Charlie knew Dee well enough to sense her outrage was really just a search for compliments. More ‘tell me about my ass’ than ‘how dare you mention my ass’.

“I was an eighteen year old virgin and you let me grab it while we were kissing,” he explained. “Of course, I was going to sing lyrics about it. It’s a great ass. I’d be crazy not to. That’s what you call a song from the heart. It’s brutally honest.”

“So, you really think it’s great?” There it was. A direct invitation to talk about her ass. Just like he suspected.

Charlie cleared his throat, deciding he would sing instead. “Soft and curved, smooth and round. It is where the magic’s found.”

Dee giggled. “Oh, that was ... terrible. But sweet.”

A pause spread between them as Charlie looked into her eyes, admiring the pale blue of her irises, and thinking how he would write a song about them one day. She stared back and then ran a hand through his hair. “Ah yes, the part of your song where you sang about my hair.”

“Mind if I run my hands through it wildly, while we make out? You know, for old time’s sake.”

Charlie grinned, his mouth inching towards hers. “Go ahead, mess it all up. Just don’t pull too hard,” he replied, and then their lips met. It didn’t take long for Dee’s hair play to turn into foreplay and soon their kissing and groping escalated into hurried hands removing clothes until they were both completely naked.

 _Making up for lost time_ he thought.

Dee took control. Swinging her legs over Charlie’s, she lowered him back onto the bed, their positions from earlier reversed. Anticipation flushed her cheeks as she grasped his hard dick, and slowly maneuvered it inside her. He moaned and when she began rocking her hips back and forth, Charlie made a few more noises he didn’t know he was capable of. Good sex noises. “Do you like that? Is that good?” she asked, as if the sounds he made weren’t answer enough. She just wanted the satisfaction of hearing him say yes.

“Holy shit! It’s better than good,” he answered, thinking of all the times he’d imagined this happening, and now it fucking was. Shit! He was inside Dee! And it was so much better than he ever dreamed.

Eagerly his hands gripped her waist, and he helped move her along with him, up and down over his cock. As their pace grew steady, Dee’s eyes closed and her head dropped back, a smile playing across her face. Gradually, their cries and sighs began to build and then blended together until Dee bent forward to bring her lips in for a kiss. “I love you,” she whispered. It was the first time Charlie had heard her say it other than in her song.

“I love you too,” he replied, gripping her ass- that wonderful ass- and pulling her down harder against him. But too soon Charlie sensed a building inside him. This was all happening so fast and he realized that making up for lost time didn’t mean he should rush things. Something this important should last. He attempted to slow Dee by holding one side of her hip down and moving his other hand up to a breast. After giving it a good squeeze, she scrunched her face and showed him there was better use for his hand by guiding it between her legs. “I swear to god, Charlie if you try to stop me from coming I will-”

“N-no, I was trying to make it last.”

Dee chuckled, which Charlie didn’t think was good. A bad sex noise. “Um, we have all night. You’re not going anywhere are you? Do you have more important plans other than doing me?”

Now it was Charlie’s turn to laugh. “Nothing is more important.”

“Then put those fingers to use. Let’s get to the good part, so we can do it again and again in all the different ways you can fuck a person.”

That sounded way better than his idea and Charlie went to work running his fingers along Dee’s moist folds. When her eyes widened, he knew he’d found the clit, and not long afterward, she made a high pitched whining noise that transformed into a yell. That was it. Charlie couldn’t hold back any longer. Once he felt her come, his own body responded the same way, causing him to groan loudly before he finished with a satisfied sigh.  

 

~***~ 

 

As she entered Charlie’s childhood bedroom, it occurred to Dee that she’d never actually been inside his mom’s house before. Mac had; he and Charlie were lifelong friends. Dennis’s experience here was brief and ego-bruising when Mrs. Kelly had turned him down for sex. And even Frank had lived here while he was banging Charlie’s mom

_Man I run with a strange group of people._

As a teen, Charlie had been self-conscious, always creating excuses for Dee not to visit. Now as adults, he was past feeling inferior. Probably because on the inside they were both equally fucked up. Who cared where you came from when it turned out you suffered from the same issues. But that didn’t mean Dee was willing to sleep over at his apartment now that they were technically together. The memory of spending one disastrous night there eating cat food was enough to scar her for life. Not judging Charlie for his childhood home was one thing. Judging him for where he lived as an adult was completely acceptable and the reason she would never stay over as his girlfriend. “You want to bang me, it’s gotta be in my apartment,” she’d told him the night before in _her_ bed.

“What about the bathroom at Paddy’s?” Charlie asked. “Cricket seems to get lucky in there a lot.” His goofy grin indicated he’d been joking. Still, just the idea was enough to make Dee gag, and Charlie spent the next half hour profusely apologizing for ruining the mood.

Navigating dating wasn’t going to be the same as navigating friendship. Dee expected many hiccups, but was willing to face them and learn how to be a couple, because for the first time in her life a relationship was based on love, and not what she could get out of it. And she really did love Charlie, cat food and all.

Charlie’s childhood bedroom was strangely pristine and looked like a museum dedicated to him. “Mom got a little crazy when I moved out,” he explained after Dee gave him a suspicious look. “She left all my original stuff out and cleaned in here every day, hoping I’d come back. Now it’s just become a part of her OCD.” He sat on the floor and reached under his bed. “But thanks to her neurotic tics I was able to find this without any trouble.”

The shoebox Charlie pulled out was old and covered in stickers, and when he picked one off, Dee assumed it was headed for his mouth. Sticker eating was one of Charlie’s well known weird habits, and she restrained herself from lecturing him. This was a lesser hiccup she could ignore … for now. But instead, he held it out for her to see. “Remember this?” he asked.

Dee squinted. It was a regular gold star, the kind teachers gave out to students in elementary school for good behavior. “It doesn’t look like anything special to me,” she admitted.

“Maybe not. But when I got my first A on a paper, my English teacher was so excited she gave me a whole sheet of gold stars. Mom was so proud of me too. I put them all over this box, because I wanted to remember that feeling of people being proud of me, even if it wasn’t really my work.”

Dee smiled and took the star from him. “Well, now you really did earn that gold star, since you can read now.” She tried to press it on Charlie’s tee, but the star fluttered into his lap, having lost all its stick.

She made up for it by giving him a soft kiss and Charlie joked, “That’s a better reward anyway.”

His memory box wasn’t that full. After opening it, Dee could only see a handful of things and it didn’t take her long to understand that the reason why was because, Charlie didn’t have too many great memories. But the ones he did consider happy always seemed to coincide with her presence. Frank’s business card. A note they’d passed during detention. The _Phantom_ CD. _The Bodyguard_ soundtrack (Dee laughed at this one). Flyers for _Hamlet_ and _Les Miserables_. His ticket stub for _The Flintstones_. A phonics card. “That was a recent addition,” Charlie revealed with a shy smile.

Then there was the tape.

When he played it for her, Dee held back any criticism for the simple words and rhymes, and yes- just like he’d told her- the few lines about her ass. But it didn’t really matter. The song was pure Charlie at age eighteen and she loved it.

“Now do you really want me to play that in front of the gang?” he asked, once the stop button on his old cassette player had been pushed. His expression was hopeful that she’d take back her demand for equal humiliation.

Dee shook her head. “No. I want to keep that all to myself. Those assholes don’t deserve to hear something so pure. And I think after everything I’ve seen in this box, we’re even.”

They kissed again. In his room, like they might have all those years ago if Dee hadn’t pushed him away. She was definitely making up for lost time and made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t waste a single day now that they were together.

The ballad of dirtgrub and aluminum monster finally had its happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:
> 
> This fic was originally supposed to be like 4 chapters at most, but grew in plot until I was like wtf this story is taking over all my free mind space. Anyway, I titled it My Fair Charlie bc it was supposed to be a cute take on My Fair Lady. If I could go back and rename it, this fic should've obviously been named- The Ballad of Dirtgrub and Aluminum Monster. Oh well.
> 
> It's not terribly apparent, but in the background I had a secondary plot of karate dancing being all about Mac finally coming out to everyone. Meaning that Dee completely ruined it with her song.
> 
> I headcanon Charlie as being on the spectrum
> 
> I wrote this fic without a beta, so please forgive any grammar and spelling mistakes as I can only edit this thing so much before my eyes start to bleed.
> 
> And lastly, thank you for reading and commenting. This isn't a terribly large ship, so all feedback was greatly appreciated.


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